#i have many thoughts about the little tooth man and none of them are particularly brilliant

[wheres-your-paddle]

everybody's saying "episode three shows that caine is gonna abstract and the circus goes down with him" but i can't be the only one who thinks that's not quite right.

the abstractions have a set look. they're their own models. they have a set shape. they have a set "range" they work in (like how kaufmo doesn't actually affect the infrastructure of the circus with the same glitch he inflicted on ragatha and pomni, he can only affect so much). they're easily recognisable by their pitch black shapes and their glitching eyes. they're not just "a character is glitchy/broken" because they still fall within the rules of the circus. they're a new form of a character altogether. so far, they're more akin to being one of the game's hostile mobs than to a game-breaking error.

BUT! when caine glitches the circus there's no black shapes covered with eyes — he doesn't look at all like the abstracted characters. look closely at the effects and you'll see the models aren't changing to a new design, they're being un-made. they're becoming un-rendered, un-designed, the rooms are reverting from a finished scene to an in-progress game. caine's glitch deteriorates the circus itself, the game itself. unlike kaufmo and queenie, caine can actually cause something game-breaking.

it's not "oh caine can abstract". it's worse.

[taters169]

The Tin drabbles

Masterlist

Sweet tooth

Vince had always had a passion for cooking, he loved trying new dishes and could create really tasty meals with very few ingredients. Baking on the other hand was a nightmare. No matter how carefully he followed recipies they always came out wrong. He was absolutely determined to get this one right though.

He'd been very secretive all week, he'd wanted it to be a surprise for Michael so he'd been sure to work on it when his tiny roommate was otherwise occupied. The makeshift oven he'd constructed from clay was the hardest to hide but he was sure he'd managed so far. He'd spent every spare moment lately watching youtube videos by other people who cooked and baked tiny items but none of the videos were particularly instructive, they were more asmr type vids. Finally after a lot of trial and error he managed it. Using tealight cases as cake tins and a candle he managed to get two decent looking sponge cakes. Very slowly and carefully he tipped them out onto a plate to cool. He stacked them together with jam and buttercream smearing extra on the top. Then using tweezers with infinite care he added sprinkles in a pattern around the top.

"Michael you around?" Said Vince stepping into the sitting room.

"I'm in here" shouted Michael from the window of his house on the bookcase

"Come here a sec I've got something for you" said Vince as he sat on the floor by the sofa.

Michael paused the video he'd been watching on Vince's old phone and made his way across the floor

"I hope it's worth interrupting my show for" Michael said with a smirk as he approached the giant.

"Would I ever waste your precious time?" Said Vince teasing the little man right back. He brought his hand down to his tiny friend to reveal the cake in the middle of his palm

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Michael "Vince! Did you make that? It's incredible!"

"I did yeah, do you like it?" Asked Vince a bit shy about his humble creation

"Like it? Are you daft I LOVE it! Not many borrowers get to have an entire cake you know!" He lifted the plate from Vince's palm and looked the whole cake over "HA? What's Ha mean?" Looking at the sprinkles on the top

"Well I couldn't fit much on the top so I thought I'd abbreviate it, it stands for Happy Anniversary. It was a year ago today we first met. I wasn't sure if you'd want to mark the day or not because I know it wasn't the best circumstances at the time but I know you have a massive sweet tooth so I thought this would be ok. Is it ok?"

Michael carefully placed the cake on the floor and turned back to his huge friend. He stepped into Vince's hand and hugged his thumb in a tight grip.

"It's more than ok. Thank you, and not just for the cake. I was certain I was gonna die that day and when you opened that box I didn't know if I'd just gone from one hell straight into another. But you've given me a home and a family and space to heal in a way I never thought I could."

Vince lifted his hand to his face and nuzzled his nose into his tiny companion's side.

"I wish I could undo all that hurt you had to go through, I wish I could have found you sooner, or that he'd never found you at all"

"I'm not gonna say I don't wish the same thing sometimes but if he hadn't found me first then I wouldn't have met you either and I'd still be all on my own back in my old house without anyone to spend all day making me an epic anniversary cake"

Vince skilled and pulled back to look Michael in the eye

"You're not gonna try and eat it all yourself are you? You'll be sick!"

"Try and stop me" said Michael with a grin.

[sticklovezone]

stupid gay stickbranch fanfic i wrote

im not the best writer but a bitch tried ok!!!!

He was a man of many talents, though none of them were particularly admirable. 

Being a crude salesman with a deep desire for money, Mr. Stick pretty much scams and steals from people for a living. His office, cluttered with half-empty coffee cups, stacks of tools and wrenches for his strange inventions, and an assortment of questionable merchandise that he made himself truly showed how much of an ‘innovator’ he was. Nobody really likes the guy, as he’s always so…negative.

And then there was Mr. Branch, the very definition of a pushover. Branch was Mr. Stick's assistant, being a coward that was pretty much terrified of just about everything. While Stick thrived off of his snarkiness and incompetence, Branch would mumble apologies even when no offense had been given. He often spent his days following Stick around, trying to avoid his boss’s outbursts. Whenever Stick got frustrated with a customer or a deal gone wrong, Branch would shuffle away as he hoped to go unnoticed. Branch kept everything running smoothly, even if it meant enduring his boss’ dumb attitude and mean jokes. They practically needed each other, as Branch kept him out of trouble and Stick gave him commance.

Despite the contrast between the two, Stick had a soft spot for Branch. Maybe it was the way Branch never seemed to complain about Stick’s pissy behavior or how he always seemed to kiss up to him. Perhaps it was simply that Branch treated every day as an opportunity for the genuine friendly connection that they both seemed to lack. Whatever the reason was, Branch's weird but undeniable loyalty made Stick appreciate him a tiny amount. 

It was a dusky Thursday night, and while he was scribbling down the typical notes for another questionable sales pitch for himself, Branch hesitantly approached Stick’s cluttered desk, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves. 

“Sir….” he stammered, glancing around as if the walls themselves might eavesdrop. “I was wondering if… perhaps… we could go out somewhere…?”

Stick didn’t even look up from the dusty papers. “What for? I got a lotta money to make, Branch. Don’t waste my time.” His voice was rough, coated in the rasp of annoyance. 

“Well, I—uh—thought maybe we could have a bit of fun? You know, take a break?” The strange suggestion made Stick raise an eyebrow.

“Huh. Fun. What do you have in mind? Your ‘fun’ usually implies me getting roped into something stupid like watching you bake muffins or something.” Stick replied with the usual sarcastic tone.

“No! Not baking! I mean, we could go to the bakery downtown…” Branch’s excitement was obvious, and he couldn’t suppress the grin creeping onto his face. He loved the bakery, always visiting whenever he had time to himself. 

He could admit, Stick thought it was a stupid idea at first. But after some thought, he decided to just give in and make the little guy happy. 

“Fine…” Stick grumbled, rolling his eyes. “But if I’m going to waste my time on this nonsense, you better make it fun!”

As they set off in Stick's beat-up car, the unpleasant screeches from the tires filled the air and made the ride a bit uncomfortable. Branch, filled with excitement at the thought of visiting the bakery with his beloved boss, tried his best to make conversation, but Stick mostly ignored him, filled with attitude. The bakery, adorned with pastel colors and wafting with the enticing aromas of sugar and yeast, welcomed them like a warm hug. Both of them had your typical sweet tooth. Stick even kept a jar of candy at his desk all to himself! 

Branch held the door open for Stick, but of course he ignored the kind gesture. As they stepped inside, the cheerful jingle of the bell overhead signaled their arrival, increasing Branch's anticipation.

“What do you want? You’re the one who insisted on coming here,” Stick said, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Uh….I can’t decide. There’s too much.” Branch replied, his eyes scanning the plethora of treats.

“Well, clearly! Just decide already, damn it! Nevermind….” Stick barked, his voice echoing through the cozy shop as he leaned over the glass case. “I’ll get a dozen doughnuts. Maybe I can get the extras later.” His smirk was sinister.

Branch watched him order with his usual smug behavior, shaking his head slightly. “Y’know sir, I didn’t bring that much money so—”

“I’m not paying for anything!” Stick snapped back, rolling his eyes as he snatched the box of doughnuts from the cashier. He just HAD to make a scene everywhere he went.“Just hand over whatever you got, will ya? Sheesh…”

After pulling out a few crumpled bills from his pocket, Branch handed them over reluctantly. Once the whole ‘ordeal’ was complete, they sat down by a window table. Branch was enjoying every second of those damn doughnuts, as he stuffed them into his mouth quickly with crumbs getting all over his suit. Stick watched as his assistant ate, with a look of both admiration and confusion. How could one person eat that much…? 

The joy on Branch’s face showed as he patted his stomach, feeling full and satisfied. Stick rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but admit that there was something a little funny about the sight.

Branch slept peacefully in the car as Stick drove them back home. Despite the loud snoring, it was strangely adorable to Stick. He continued driving, not really paying attention to the road but rather the thoughts that swirled in his mind about that damn idiot. 

He was so cowardly and wimpy but yet, Stick couldn’t help but smile a little while thinking about the little guy. He tried his best to make him happy, and Stick thought about it. He growled, trying to deny the obvious affection he had for him.

“Damn idiot….”

[themandylion]

There Are Many Advantages

I could hold onto this for a month and use it for JayTim Week. But MerMay is almost over and this is, fundamentally, a product of Tumblr.

Read it on AO3.

—

The thing that got Jason wasn't the uncanny valley near-humanity of the top half, or the row upon row of terrifyingly sharp teeth, or even the solid grasp of the English language. No, all of that kind of took a back seat to the creature's skin.

"It's so smooth," he marveled, running his hand along the surface first one way, then the other. Logically, it shouldn't surprise him so. The creature—mer—T'm wasn't exactly what one might call 'typical marine life.' It made sense that his body parts didn't follow established 'rules.' But it still threw him a bit.

"Only a little smoother than yours," T'm said, dragging webbed fingers along Jason's bare arm, his slightly clammy touch summoning goosebumps. "Well, than yours was," he amended. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you bumpy. Is this an allergic reaction?"

"Uh, no. It's just. I." Jason swallowed, trying to organize his thoughts before he blurted out something ridiculous like 'I'm sensitive to being touched by gorgeous men.' T'm wasn't a man, after all—hell, his species might not even have sexes, let alone sexual dimorphism. "See the little hairs growing on my skin? They gather information and send messages to my brain about the world around me. Sometimes the skin around them reacts as well, to help me notice faster. The bumps are an involuntary response to unexpected stimuli, like touch or a change in temperature."

Transparent membranes nictated across one of the mer's eyes, then the other. "Fascinating. Now, explain to me why my skin being smooth is so interesting."

"Well, several of your physiological characteristics are similar to those of sharks—lack of swim bladder, multiple rows of teeth that replace each other over time, cartilaginous skeleton, the fin shape and placement, in particular the heterocercal caudal fin… But sharks have placoid—tooth-like—scales that feel smooth when stroked in one direction, but rough and 'biting' when stroked in the opposite direction," Jason explains, technical terms slipping in even as he tries to keep his explanation simple.

T'm nodded thoughtfully, though that might have been the movement of the water most of his body was still immersed in, only his upper torso propped on the edge of the raft. "My species does share many characteristics with them, I suppose. But recall that we originate from another star system and are thus apart from the evolutionary chains found among Terran species."

"Right! Right. Sorry, still wrapping my head around the idea that an entire society of people live under the waves. Might take me a bit longer to really grasp the alien aspect—we have myths and legends of mers, but none of them include extraterrestrial origins." Well, outside the fringe theories cryptozoologists occasionally floated and only supermarket tabloids were interested in publishing.

"To be fair, we've been on this planet for long enough that we actually lost that part of our history and only recently rediscovered it," T'm consoled him. "I just know a bit more than most because my parents were particularly keen on archeology. As it is, our cultures are more similar to nearby human ones than to anything our ancient spacefaring ancestors might have practiced."

Anthropology was far from Jason's area of study, but he supposed that could be interesting to those who were interested in such things. "Well, that certainly explains your mastery of English."

"Eh, I mostly learned it to follow television shows," T'm admitted, flapping a hand dismissively. "But it's a useful skill and allows me to keep up with scientific advancements, though it was pretty hard to read journals in a marine environment. Electronic publications have been a boon."

"Is terrestrial biology a popular area of study down below?"

"Not really. Land makes up less than forty percent of the planet's surface and even smaller percentage of the living space. I'm considered a bit of an eccentric, but that's something of a family tradition at this point." Gripping the edge of the raft, T'm pulled himself farther onto the deck.

"Uh. You okay there?" Jason gulped, his fight-or-flight response warring with other parts of him that were still all too aware of how attractive he found T'm's more humanoid features.

T'm's pale cheeks were quickly turning a bright blue that perfectly complimented his eyes. A part of Jason wondered if they would radiate heat if he held his hand up to them. He had yet to determine if T’m's species was homeothermic or poikilothermic. "Like I said, I've mostly learned about humanity from television, so I may be reading the situation wrong, but. I, ah. I find our conversations exciting and you and your ideas very interesting and attractive and I swear this isn't because I think you're exotic or that you represent an opportunity for me advance the entire field of terrestrial biology or—"

"Me too," Jason blurted out, his own cheeks very definitely betraying his own homeothermic nature. "I mean, I think you're very interesting and attractive also. As a fellow sentient lifeform. Person. You know."

T'm smiled at him and shifted his weight to one hand so he could rest the other on Jason's. "I know this is going to be difficult to work out, but I'd like to at least try?"

Turning his hand over, Jason squeezed the webbed one encouragingly as he returned the smile. "I'd like that too. Though I have no idea how we're going to manage dates when I can't breathe underwater and you don't have any real way of moving on land."

"Ah. I may have a few ideas on that," T'm assured him, eyes sparkling. "There are many advantages to being a terrestrial biologist."

[honeypirate]

Tell Me A Story

Pairing: tendou x fem reader, fae au, Princess au, age like 23/24

Warnings: idk much about fairies this was scenario I thought of to fall asleep 😂 also no editing per my usual mess

His fingers brushed against your forehead as you rested your cheek against his chest. Your eyes flutter closed, the warmth of the fire on your face and the warmth of being cuddled with Tendou on the couch made you feel so safe.

“Tell me a story” you say, voice so full of comfort and warmth, he chuckles softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead before clearing his throat lightly

“Once upon a time” he starts, fingers resuming brushing gentle patterns against your forehead and cheeks “in a land far far away, nestled between two lush mountains, was a modest kingdom. Now this kingdom had a King, a particularly strict King that many feared. It also had a beautiful Princess with a heart so full of love, but we’ll get to her later” you chuckle softly and cuddle closer into him, the story sounding more familiar as he goes on.

“The king had a sweet tooth and was obsessed with finding the mystical Fae, who were said to make the most magical chocolate. Going through every single person who was known to make chocolate or candies and none could satisfy him. A family of unfortunate luck, got caught in town selling furs, outing them as Fae. So they were brought before the king and locked in the kitchen.

For the next month the little family baked and cooked day and night for the king and his friends, they slept little and were worked to the bone, their magic being pushed to limits without passion or choice. They were almost ready to give up any hope, until that Princess I mentioned earlier, came to the rescue.

The Princess, a wonderful woman who was as much a prisoner in the castle as them, started to sneak down to the kitchen during guard rotation just to talk to the young fae man, knowing her father spread lies about how dangerous they could be. They became friends and she’d sneak his family extra food and medicines. The more they talked the closer they grew, realizing that they used to know each other as kids. You see, fae parents sometimes put a spell on their children to keep them invisible until they can control their powers, but this young Princess could still see him. They used to play as children, when the Princess’s mom was still alive and took her to the town. They shared stories they remembered about each other. Then one night when she snuck him her favorite fruit, I realized I loved her. When the man told her He was terrified, but she just grinned and whispered it back to him. A determination in her eyes like she just discovered the answer to something important.

He was worried when she didn’t show up the next evening but nothing could have prepared him for her knocking on the delivery door to the kitchen and unlocking it.

“Five minutes” she said they didn’t hesitate to follow her out of the kitchen and into the dark castle. They almost got caught once, but the Princess’s quick thinking got them out of the castle and into the night air. The young man’s parents were off, flying up into the night sky. The young man turned to the Princess and took her hand “come with me” he said and she leaned up to kiss his cheek, her lips warm and soft, “I’d go with you anywhere” she said and the sounds of her laughter when he flew off with her, will be one of the sounds he treasures for the rest of his life. The young couple moved to a different kingdom, one in the fae realm, and life couldn’t be sweeter” he finishes, not even sure you’re still awake.

“You left a lot of important things out my love” you whisper and he chuckles “like what sweetheart?” He asks and you smile, eyes fluttering open to look at him. “Let me tell you a story” you start leaning up and kissing his jaw softly

“There once was a little girl who was taught love and kindness from her mother. She would spend everyday with her mother, traveling through the kingdom and meeting the people, helping out however they could. On their travels the little girl met a boy, a boy with the unruliest of red hair and a way of getting her into trouble. They never shared names, he called her princess and she simply called him Red. They were best friends and he always knew how to find her.” your eyes close again and you reach up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck as you continue your story “Until the girl's mother died. Her father locked the young girl away in her home in fear of anything happening to her. As the years passed she never forgot the red haired boy, even as her father continued his slow descent into madness, she kept him in her heart. The Father became obsessed with chocolates and a fairy tale of Fae and Magic. He was consumed by the need to possess a Fairy for himself, to use the magical chocolate for his own personal gain. After years of his work he bribed a witch to gain the location of a family in his kingdom, said to be hidden Fae. He succeeded, and locked them in the kitchens of his home, using iron doors and shackles so they wouldn’t be able to escape.” He resists the urge to pull down his sleeve and cover the scar on his left wrist, you feel his change of energy and move slowly, taking his arm from around you, bringing his hand up to your lips, pressing kisses against the scar.

“When the young girl, now a woman, heard of this cruelty and the lies he was spreading about how dangerous they were, she wouldn’t stand for it. She had to see for herself.” You kiss the palm of his left hand and then hold it to your cheek, smiling softly as you lay your head back against his shoulder as you continue

“She asked for help from a maid, getting the guard distracted since she knew the maid fancied the guard. And then she went and spoke through the kitchen door to the family of fairies.

“in the darkness of the night she couldn’t see that his hair was red, she couldn’t see the stubborn and determined fire in his eyes that she would never forget, so she didn’t know it was her boy. In the darkness, he couldn’t tell it was his Princess. He couldn’t see her (e/c) eyes, or the looks she would give him. He didn’t know if it was the girl he knew lived here, or just one of the staff. So she continued to talk to him when she could, brought him medicine for his mother and the good pipe tobacco his father desired. And for him, she Unknowingly brought her heart.”

He hums softly and kisses your forehead

“She had already planned to steal the keys and get them free, that was the plan since day one. But the maid liked to move slow in romantic endeavors; she had to wait. One evening when she snuck down to see the Fae man again, she brought a candle along with her favorite fruit. Her curiosity unbearable to know what the man she was growing feelings for looked like.

“When she lit the candle, bringing it up to the bars of the door, she couldn’t believe her eyes. It was her boy. With the same hair and crimson eyes, but now he looked sad and malnourished. He looked starved and worked to the bone. Her heart leapt for joy and crumbled into pieces when she saw just how he looked. She knew she couldn’t wait any longer. The plan had to happen and it had to happen immediately. After they reminisced about their past, the excitement of finding each other again still strong in her heart but she had to go. When she turned he caught her nightgown through the bars of the kitchen door. Now that he saw her, saw his Princess, he knew his feelings were true, so he told her he loved her and she cupped his cheek with a smile and told him that she loved him too before leaving him. The next day she completed her plan. She had spent the last few weeks playing along with her father’s delusions, pretending to appreciate his strength and valor for capturing the fae. So she spent the day with him, buttering him up and solidifying his trust in her so when the time came when he went to his dinner with several important members of the kingdom, he wouldn’t even be thinking about her as she snuck into his office. The lock was broken on this door, she’s seen her father open it with a kick in the right place when he lost his key, so that’s what she did and it worked like a charm. She found the keys in his safe, where he always puts his special items when people he doesn’t trust are inside the castle, the combination of which was still her mothers birthday. Then she waited, she hid the keys in her skirt and then waited for the right time. Around midnight she heard her father drunkenly stumble bed and she was up, out to find the maid. Although the maid tried to convince her not to do this, that the repercussions would be too severe, it wasn’t too difficult to convince her to distract the guard. The princess was quick as she unlocked the kitchen door and then their shackles. As they reached the night air she hesitated for a moment, he said he loved her but does he mean it or did he just want to be free? She wants him to be free and happy no matter what that means for him, even if it doesn’t mean her. Because she knew that she wanted to go with him but he never asked her to. He never said he wanted her to. He just said he loves her. And those are just words. But he took her hand and asked her to come with him and no part of her could say no.

You adjust your body on his, straddling his legs to cup his cheeks and gaze down at him “the handsome man, protected the Princess and saved her just as much as she saved him. He took her to his home land. Showed her the possibilities of joy that every day had to offer. Every night he shares a warm bed with her, every day a warm home, they confide in one another, trust one another, and listen without judgment, gently reminding each other what they deserve.”

You press your lips against his temple, kissing softly down to his cheek and then finally pressing your lips to his. “A happily ever after if i've ever heard one” he says against your lips and he pulls you in close, burying his face in your neck. “I love you” he whispers against your skin and you hum softly with a smile, carding your fingers through his thick red hair and admiring the way the cute tips of his ears point through the mess as you say “I love you so much, Satori”

[sitaarein]

None Stand Equal In This Dark World

A/N: Officially my largest ever fic so please. Just read it and be nice sob because I’m kinda proud of some of it

Written for @grishaversebigbang 2021!!!

Corporalki: @homicide-depot​

Materialki: @generalnabri (x), @kolarpem (x), @aivicart (x), @maximumbluebirdpatrol , @niadrawing (x)

 (Summary: A murder mystery AU featuring Zoyalai, twists and turns, moral dilemma, and then some more

Read on AO3

Chapter One

The apartment door was wide open.

 In retrospect, that alone should have set off the alarm bells in Zoya’s head. No one left the door to their place wide open. She can’t imagine why she simply dismissed it. 

 Scratch that, she knew why. She’d been tracking this idiotic Grisha for a month now. She was tired and desperate. 

 But it appeared that- who would’ve thought- not being at the top of your game has consequences. 

 Consequences like staring down a man who’s been tied to a chair and gagged in the middle of, what Zoya guesses is, the lounge, eyes wide with terror.

 Zoya is mad at herself for not managing to guess it was a red herring- the damn door - and very, very mad at the Grisha who has, once again, slipped right through her hands. 

 She nods to one of her men, and he immediately drops to the man’s level to untie and presumably interrogate him. Zoya doesn’t stick around for the details- she trusts her people to give her good reports. Instead, after a cursory look around, she tips her head back to face the ceiling, taking in a deep breath, and leaves the apartment. 

 The weather outside took a dramatic turn in the fifteen minutes she was inside- it had been sunny before, or at least as sunny as Ravka ever could get. But now, the sun has all but ceased to exist, and the bitter cold is back once more. 

 Zoya prefers the cold. 

 (She doesn’t, not really, but no one needed to know that.)

 Zoya starts walking, pulling her coat tighter around herself. Her mind races, trying to connect all the dots, trying to figure out where her investigation had gone wrong. Start from the beginning. Don’t miss anything. The most minor of details are the most important.

  The beginning. A woman showed up to their headquarters about her missing family. Those cases were usually dismissed completely, handed over to the police forces- Zoya’s force was Grisha-centric, other cases, no matter how large or important they were, did not concern them. But this case was different.

 The woman was Grisha. 

 Her family weren’t, evidently- and neither did they know that she was. They’d been missing for six weeks, and the odds were pretty heavily stacked against them still being alive. The woman was detained (she was Grisha, this was Zoya’s job ) and a group of officers were dispatched for a search and rescue.

 The officers never returned.

 Alarm bells were now ringing, and the General assigned Zoya to the case. In the time since she officially took over, twenty more disappearances were documented, and all of them in Os Kerva alone. Saints knew what was happening in the rest of the country.

 But Zoya had never believed in Saints, so she found out what was happening in the rest of the country.

 The total number of disappearances in all of Ravka that had this case’s signature mark- an eclipsed sun left wherever the victims were seen last- was an estimated three thousand . Zoya couldn’t believe no one had connected the dots before her. Then again, the entire of the force were filled with incompetent idiots, so maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her. 

  The series of events . Zoya travelled up and down the country with the best of her underlings, talking to anyone who knew the victims, searching their last known places with tooth combs, building up working hypotheses, using all the resources they had available. Zoya was not an idiot. She knew exactly how capable she was. 

 And she also knew when she was fighting a losing battle.

 And so, when she got a call from one of her top detectives about a confirmed Grisha she’d been trailing for some time now who’d begun suspicious activity, she was clutching at straws and willing to take anything that came her way. She met up with her agent, and a few days later, they got the address of the apartment she was currently pacing in front of.

  The present . This part could be summed up fairly quickly. Zoya is, once again, at a fucking dead end . 

 Before she can kick something (or someone) out of frustration, A faint ringing reaches her ears, and frowning, Zoya stops in her tracks. Her phone is never not on silent. Calling Zoya Nazyalensky for anything was utterly pointless- she never picked up. 

  But the GIA has ways of getting into contact with its members regardless.

 Muttering a curse, Zoya digs around her pockets, looking for the infernal device with its grating, high-toned ringing. Finally locating her phone, she jabs the answer button without looking at the caller ID.

 “Yes?” she asks bluntly. 

 “Zoya,” Alina’s voice greets her.  

 Zoya immediately forgets everything that had been on her mind. When Alina calls, it’s rarely for a friendly chat. 

 “What’s wrong?”

“You need to get back here. As soon as possible.”

 “Understood. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

 Alina hangs up immediately, and Zoya pockets her phone, mind racing.

 She orders one of her lackeys to send her a report when they're done, grabs the keys for the van they’d used to get to the apartment from a rather distracted officer, taking off.

 Zoya reaches the Grisha Investigation Authorities in approximately half the time she’d given to Alina, and she may or may not have disobeyed quite a few traffic laws to get to her destination as quickly as she did, but that was frankly unimportant. 

 She strides through the doors, not bothering to acknowledge the many who’ve halted their paths to nod to her or, in the case of a few particularly stupid (or courageous, however you wanted to see it) people, attempt to strike up a conversation with her. She didn’t break her pace even once, until she’d reached the door to the meeting room they usually used to meet up for serious issues. After taking a moment to compose herself, Zoya pushes the door open.

 Inside, she finds all of her fellow Commanding Officers assembled- Adrik, Leoni, Alina, and Genya. Frowning, Zoya scans their faces, and mentally shifts whatever’s happening even higher on her scale of terrible shit to take care of immediately.

 Because not even Leoni, who can find positivity at a funeral, is smiling right now. There’s barely a hint of her optimistic and eternally cheerful personality in her countenance. 

 Zoya carefully takes the seat left for her around the circular table. Her gaze flits from one worried face to another, and she decides to be direct.

 “How bad is it?”

 The question seems to jolt Alina out of her reverie. She looks up, and Zoya feels her breath catch, because she looks so… helpless. Terrified.

 Genya takes it upon herself to answer Zoya’s question with another question, her mouth set in a grim line. “How’s your investigation going?”

 “We lost the suspect,” Zoya admits, her earlier frustration returning with the reminder of the infernal case. “We’re right back to where we started- but without the hope and the general idea of where to start.”

 “I’m not surprised,” Adrik mutters. “Considering who your delightful suspect is…”

 Zoya furrows her brow, and glances back at Genya. “Explain.”

 Genya looks as if she would rather do anything else, but after coming to the realisation that no one else is about to, she sighs and does so.

 “I’m presuming you remember Alina’s case that went cold about two years back?”

  A little too well. Even years later, that case haunts her- the truly horrific killings, from corpses with their body parts stuffed down their throats, to children who had clearly been still alive when burnt, the utter dead ends, Alina’s far too close brush with death, and… the person behind it all.

 “You don’t think it’s the same person??” Zoya demands, horror spreading through her veins.  She can not handle another Kirigan. 

 In lieu of replying, Genya nods to Leoni, who pushes forward a large envelope. Dread pooling in her gut, Zoya opens the package to find pictures from Alina’s investigation.

 “We revisited these when your disappearances started,” Genya says. “And… found more similarities than we’re frankly comfortable with.” 

 Zoya shifts the photos around, and then freezes at one, having caught sight of a mostly blurry but still distinctive calling card. “That’s…”

 “The eclipsed sun,” Adrik provides grimly. “You’re screwed.”

 “Hey, now,” Leoni protests. “We don’t know that.”

 Adrik snorts. “Don’t we? Need I remind you of the damage this person wrecked to the GIA and our country?”

 “How do we know this isn’t just a copycat?” Zoya breaks in. “None of the bodies of the victims this time around have been discovered,”

 “Copy cats still tend to have their own twists on kills, a signature, a mark that’s theirs. While none of the killings for either case have many similarities, they also don’t vary in terms of said signature.” Genya says.

 “Killers are proud creatures,” Adrik inputs.

 “And this one’s no exception,” Leoni says, eyes grim. 

 Zoya looks up. “What do you know?”

 Leoni hesitates, but then gives in. “We got a note this morning. A photocopy should be in the envelope too.”

 Zoya overturns the envelope, and sure enough, a piece of paper falls out. She picks it up, reads it, and crumples it up. 

 “You’re sure this isn’t a stupid joke?”

 “It was in the Director’s office.” Leoni says. 

  Shit.  Zoya glances back down at the crumpled mass she’s still clutching. You will burn on your mistakes. What mistakes? 

 She ignores the faint voice in the back of her head. You know what mistakes.

 Zoya takes a deep breath, focuses her thoughts, and then exhales. “How’s the Director doing?”

“He’s terrified.” All of the COs seemed to be equally startled to see Alina was the one to speak. Her mouth is set in an angry line, and Zoya can guess the track of her thoughts, because they were the same ones that had crossed her mind upon hearing the words- who is he to be terrified? What right did the Director even have to feel scared, when he himself never so much as interacted with the cases???

 Adrik sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Which is what has led us to our current predicament.”

 “And what do you mean by that?” 

 Genya exhales in a huff. “He wants the Mentals on this case along with all of us.”

 “He what.” 

 Alina, lips twisted in a sardonic smile, gestures to nothing in particular. “You heard correctly.”

 “Why ??? This is my case, and I will handle it.”

 “He doesn’t want a repeat of the bad press that came with my failing last time, I’m guessing.”

 “Bad press,” Zoya spits out. “I wonder how much bad press he’ll get when I-”

 “Do not,” Genya warns. “This could be helpful to us.”

  But also a personal disgrace , Zoya finishes the sentence in her head. The Mentals were practically a legend of the GIA- they were special, elite investigators, a whole mix of people ranging from scientists to- if the rumors were correct- ex-spies, who ended up with the cases no one else in the force could solve, and somehow, without fail, solved each of them within a week at the least. 

 It was irritating as hell.

 And having them assigned on your case meant that the Director did not trust you to be successful on your own. 

 Absolutely wonderful.

 “So when are these... spectacular detectives arriving?” Zoya asks. 

 Genya opens her mouth, and then closes it, before starting, “Well-”

 “I hope I’m not too late to this marvelous party?”

 Zoya swivels to see who this truly abnormally cheerful person is, and then blinks. She turns back to face the others once more- Adrik still looks glum, Leoni is smiling her most polite smile, Alina seems to have perked up and Genya is genuinely smiling. They all look… unsurprised.

 Of course they were hiding more secrets up their sleeves.

 “ What,” Zoya finally breaks and asks. “Is the damned PR guy doing here?”

 The aforementioned PR guy pouts. “Is that really what I’m known for around here? My PR duties? That’s quite depressing. Why would you focus on that when you could talk about my stunning good looks, or my undeniable charm, or even my ability to-”

 “Nikolai,” Alina interrupts. “Shut up.” she looks at Zoya, a hint of dry amusement in her eyes. 

 “Zoya, this is Nikolai Lantsov, and he is indeed our PR guy, but he’s also… head of the Mentals.”

 Zoya blinks. He’s what??? And then, wait… they knew who the special investigators were? How long have they known? Why was I not informed?

 She doesn’t voice any of her thoughts, choosing instead to stare, unimpressed, at the blond, who grins at her in response. 

 “If I had known you possessed such astounding grace and beauty, Miss Nazyalensky, I would have made your acquaintance sooner! I’m sure these upcoming days will prove to be an absolute pleasure, provided I get to spend them in your delightful company.”

 “Saints save me,” Zoya utters faintly. “The Director assigned an idiot to my case.”

 “Hey, now!” Nikolai protests. “You haven’t even met the rest of my team yet!”

 “An idiot who talks too much,” she deplores. 

 Genya and Alina both snort at that. In fact, all of her fellow COs seemed to be taking far too much pleasure in this situation. Zoya hates all of them. 

  “Well, now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way,” Nikolai says, to which Zoya distinctly hears Adrik mutter “pleasantries?” under his breath, “I think now would be a wonderful time for me to introduce you to my brilliant team,”

  Genya sits up immediately, looking eager. Zoya wonders what that’s about. 

 She finds out fairly quickly.

 Nikolai ushers in a group of people, and she recognises one in particular, one who she has, in fact, known since her college years -

 David. Genya’s husband, David Kostyk, is a part of the Mentals. Harmless old David. Zoya can’t believe her eyes. 

 She scans the rest of the group, but the others barely seem familiar. The two Shu right in front of David look similar enough to be twins, apart from the height difference. Right next to David is a woman that, with a jolt, Zoya recognises as Adrik’s sister from what she’s heard and seen of her. Bringing up the rear is a man who vaguely resemblesNikolai himself, ducking his head shyly as he enters the room. 

 “Now that your merry party is all assembled,” Adrik says glumly. “Any ideas where to start?”

 “Shouldn’t we at least get to know each other first?” Adrik’s sister asks.

 Adrik stares at her. “I’ve known you since I was born.”

 “We’re not the only ones in the room, Adrik.”

 “Oh, aren’t we ? I can’t say I noticed.”

 Nikolai interrupts their glaring match to finally provide Zoya with names to all the unfamiliar faces. 

 “Tamar, Tolya, Nadia, and Isaak, meet the officers we’ll be working with for the next few weeks or longer- Alina, Genya, Zoya, Leoni, and Adrik,” he gestures towards each person in turn. Zoya briefly wonders how he already knows their names, before realising that just because the GIA didn’t know who the special investigators were didn’t exactly mean they didn’t know the GIA either. 

 “And now,” Nikolai beams. “Let’s get comfortable. It’s time to discuss our present conundrum!”

[dhwty-writes]

hi! I have a prompt, if you like: what if Geralt hangs up mistletoe to get Jaskier to kiss him? :)

ELLIE, what a galaxy brained concept! It’s so silly and the gay panic is rampant in this one, my friends. The Kaer Morons being a bumbling pack of idiots and Geralt ridiculously pining after Jaskier? Coming right up!

Summary: Geralt is in love with Jaskier. In order to finally get him to admit his feelings, he devises a ten step plan with Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir. 

Warnings: NONE, this is tooth-rotting fluff

Read on AO3

There was a conspiracy of the highest order brewing in the Continent involving no less than four witchers, their horses, a goat, and an unsuspecting bard. It is known under many names, including, but not limited to, Operation Home Sweet Home, Gods Save us from your Fucking Pining, and Get Vesemir's Blessing (and Mission Let's Get Geralt Laid, but that was from Lambert and therefore stupid).

They had laid out the Conspiracy in a set of carefully calculated steps last winter with the help of Vesemir's Wise Words and truly copious amounts of alcohol. Once he saw the whole list sober, Geralt had nearly chucked it into the fireplace out of mortification. Good thing Eskel and Lambert had been nearby to wrestle the slip of paper out of his hands.

Only after the creation of at least half a dozen copies was he trusted with it again. He frowned down at the sheet. It was simple, really. A simple ten-step-plan. He could do that.

Step One: Stop fucking staring out of windows and sighing longingly. (Shut up, Lambert.) Get back on the Path and find Jaskier.

Now, at least that was easy enough. Not for the first time since their acquaintance they had agreed upon a meeting place to come find each other as soon as the snows would allow it. Most of the years Geralt would arrive a little late; because even if they chose a spot closer to Kaer Morhen than Oxenfurt, the Killer was usually impassable for a long time.

A few years they had been lucky and could set out relatively early in spring. Geralt hadn't felt lucky at all, sitting in a lonely tavern corner day in, day out, waiting for a familiar bright-coloured bard to fill his life with light again. He had felt terrified, most of all.

So, this year when he set out to the Path, an already crumpled list clutched tightly in his hand, he was even more on edge than normally. He didn't think he could take Step One failing already, and the mortifying possibility of Jaskier lying dead in a ditch. He might just climb up that mountain again and never come back down.

Luckily, Geralt — and Vesemir — were saved from that miserable fate. When Geralt threw open the tavern door in some backwater Kaedwen town, Jaskier was there already. He was peacocking around in his usual manner, enticing his sparse audience with his captivating presence. When his eyes fell on Geralt, though, his three half-drunk spectators were soon forgotten.

The bard gasped and slung his lute onto his back, vaulting off the stage to come rushing over to him. "You're here!" Geralt stood ready, his arms spread wide to catch Jaskier when he flung himself at him in an overenthusiastic hug. "I missed you." Jaskier slung his legs around Geralt's hips and buried his face against his shoulder, clinging to him as if for dear life. 

Geralt held him tight, deeply inhaling the familiar scent, a mix of honey, grapes, and cinnamon. He was used to this by now. He didn't mind. Truth be told, he craved it.

"Hmm," he answered, acutely aware of the stares they were attracting. Geralt decided he didn't care. "I... missed you, too."

"You did?" Jaskier pulled back and beamed at him. Just a week ago he had thought he would kill to see that smile again as soon as possible.

"Hmm," he agreed. Now he knew he knew he would die for it.

Jaskier wriggled in his grasp as a sign he wanted to be put down again. "You certainly know how to sweep a man off his feet, darling," he announced with a cheerful wink. "I don't think you've ever told me you so much as enjoyed my company before, let alone miss it."

"Hmm." Hadn't he? He could've sworn he had.

"None of that, now, let me just grab my bag and we can be on our merry way." Without another word, Jaskier rushed up the stairs in the back of the tavern.

Geralt stood uncomfortably in the door, waiting for him to return and doing his best not to attract too much attention. 'Hurry up, Jaskier,' he thought impatiently.

"Oi!" the bartender shouted. "Yer the witcher? The one of the songs?"

"I am."

The man nodded and threw something at him, humming a very distinct tune. It was a ducat. Geralt pocketed it with a sigh. He hadn't missed that.

He didn't have to wait long before Jaskier came barrelling back down the stairs, a much too large bag Roach would have to carry again in tow. "Well," the bard straightened his crumpled doublet, which, for some reason, now gaped open and showed off the pristine shirt underneath. Geralt tried not to stare, "where are we off to?"

"Toussaint," he answered, holding the tavern door open for him.

"Toussaint!" Jaskier exclaimed excitedly. "I love Toussaint."

"Hmm," Geralt said. 'I know,' Geralt thought, 'that's why we're going.'

With their reunion out of the way, it was time to proceed with the plan:

Step Two: Travel with Jaskier. Be nice to him (no fillingless pies!)! Compliment him! Laugh at his jokes!

That part was significantly more difficult than the first. Not that he lacked compliments for Jaskier, quite on the contrary. They, however, posed not one, but two difficulties.

The first was one of his own making: voicing his thoughts with actual words. In the privacy of his mind he had a myriad of compliments. 'You're beautiful,' passed through his head when he saw Jaskier bathed in the golden light of sunset. 'You smell nice,' after a day at the coast, salt encrusting Jaskier's hair. 'You make me smile', 'You make the loneliness go away', 'You're the best bard I could wish for.' None of them were quite eager to leave his mouth.

When they finally did, it was awkward. They didn't sound at all how he imagined them. "What are you looking at?" Jaskier asked.

"Something on your face," he answered. 'Yeah,' he thought dumbly, 'sunlight.'

Or: "Geralt, are you sniffing me?"

"You smell." He still cursed himself months later for omitting the simple word 'nice'.

After a while he got better at it. He could manage an "I like your voice" without stumbling over it, or a "Your outfit looks nice and smooth." It wasn't an "I love listening to you sing and say my name; you make it sound like something that is worthy of affection" or an "I love that you wear silk as soft as your skin and could spend days caressing it without growing tired of it" yet, but he was getting there.

What came then, once he was able to say a simple nice sentence to his bard, was somehow even worse. Jaskier was clumsy, that was nothing new, but this season it was on a whole different level. Whenever Geralt so much asked him about the song he was working on, the bard stumbled over his own feet; with every smile or laugh he nearly dropped his precious lute.

But nothing beat that time they happened upon a particularly clear and blue lake and Geralt had leaned over to tell Jaskier: "I like it. It reminds me of your eyes. Just as pretty." The poet had nearly plummeted right into it, which would have been very unfortunate indeed, since he hadn't convinced the nymph living in it to migrate yet.

In the end, Jaskier's utter lack of equilibrium sense led to Geralt offering him to ride on Roach. That was much better. Sometimes they rode double, too. He liked those days especially, when he had an excuse to hold his bard close. The days when Jaskier would sigh and lean back into his touch he liked most of them all.

Slowly, they settled into a familiar rhythm. It was awkward at first, but soon they became used to the change of their relationship. And it wasn't as if everything changed. They still bickered and insulted each other, and laughed and told stories. It was just right; Geralt almost didn't notice how summer came to an end.

But it did, and when the first leaves started coasting to the ground it was time for the next step.

Step Three: Ask him where he will spend the next winter.

It was probably the most mortifying thing he had to say to Jaskier yet. They were sat at a campfire one early autumn evening, Geralt trying to look busy cleaning his sword and Jaskier preoccupied with his lute. Once he finally worked up the courage to ask, he stumbled over his words like a school boy; he even blushed, for fuck's sake! It was embarrassing.

Luckily, Jaskier didn't seem to notice, too busy tuning his lute. "Why, in Oxenfurt, of course. Why do you ask, Geralt?" he answered nonchalantly as if Geralt wasn't just leading the most daunting conversation of his entire life.

'Fucking great,' he thought. Now it was time for Step Three.5: Ask Jaskier to come home with you, you fucking idiot.

"Hm," he said.

Jaskier laughed. "Talkative as always I see." He smiled at him brightly and turned back to his lute. "Alright then. Keep your secrets."

"Hmm." This wasn't getting any easier. "Jaskier."

"Yes, dear?"

His heart fluttered with the pet name, so much that Geralt nearly bit his tongue off in the process of trying to voice his question: "Would you like to stay with me?"

The lute gave a dissonant twang that made both of them wince. "Excuse me, what?" Jaskier stammered, his voice much higher than normally.

"Hmm. I just thought..." He frowned. 'Shit.' He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. This had been doomed from the beginning. "Forget it, it's stupid."

"No, no, not at all!" Jaskier scrambled to his feet and hurried over to Geralt's side. "Where would we be staying? I suppose you could come to Oxenfurt with me, but it could get a bit crammed and-"

"Kaer Morhen," Geralt stated simply.

"Kaer Mo- oh!" His eyes lit up. "Why, yes, Geralt, I would love to stay with you."

And that was the end of that. They didn't talk about it anymore the whole evening as Geralt did his damnedest to forget the conversation had ever happened. But when he laid awake in the night, Jaskier huddled close to him — it was getting rather cold, after all — he couldn't stop his mind from whirling, excitement mixing with immobilising terror. Jaskier would come to Kaer Morhen with him. They would stay together the whole winter. And Jaskier would meet his family.

With a sigh he turned over, cautiously throwing an arm over Jaskier's waist and holding him like the precious thing he was. The smile that spread on Geralt's face when his bard snuggled even closer, outshone the morning sun creeping over the horizon.

The following days and weeks, Jaskier was buzzing with the same excited energy that Geralt held within. It cost him every ounce of self-control not to turn Roach around and head for Kaer Morhen right away. But it was still early in the autumn, at least a moon's turn before it was time to go home, so they busied themselves with taking contracts and performing for sub-par audiences.

It was alright. He needed the money, after all, if he wanted to cross off Step Four: Bring Jaskier back to Kaer Morhen in its entirety, including the note: Buy him some nice and warm clothes on the way - Vesemir

It was good advice, Geralt knew, as most of Vesemir's advice was. Jaskier might have travelled with a witcher for the better part of his life, but he was still only human. And winters were very cold in the northern Kaedwen mountains.

So, on Geralt's annual stop in Ard Carraigh, he took Jaskier to get him equipped with soft woollen sweaters and stockings, as well as a pair of sturdy boots, ignoring the bard's protests of how 'ugly' they were.

"You'll thank me when you've still got all your toes after this winter," he grumbled as he strapped Jaskier's bag to Roach's saddle.

After that, nothing much exciting followed. There were still a few villages and hamlets along the way to Kaer Morhen but the least of them had so much as a tavern. The ones with a real audience of Jaskier were fewer still.

Geralt couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. Quite the opposite, he loved listening to Jaskier in the privacy of their camp or — if they were lucky — the barn where they could stay the night. He loved knowing that Jaskier sang only for him. And most of all he loved the vibrant smiles he got along the way, and the tiny ones, too, etched on his face even when he curled up against the witcher at night.

During the days, Jaskier finally had to stop riding on Roach; the path was simply getting too dangerous. The way up to Kaer Morhen had never been easy, not even when there had been two dozen witchers and twice as many students living there, but since the attack they hadn't tended to it anymore. The Witcher's Trail was no easy one for humans — and it wasn't meant to be.

Jaskier, to his credit, didn't comment much on it, most of the time too exhausted or admiring to run his mouth about the difficulty of getting to Geralt's home. He was almost a bit worried, anxious even, if Jaskier's reaction to seeing the ancient ruin would just be the same kind of silent admiration.

Evidently, there had been no need. They rounded the last corner and, finally, Kaer Morhen was looming up above them. As soon as his eyes fell on it, Jaskier gasped and ran ahead. He had, apparently, forgotten about his aching limbs he had complained about just that morning. "Is that it?" he asked excitedly. "Geralt, is this it?"

"No, it's another crumbling fortress in the Kaedwen mountains," he deadpanned.

"You're mean," Jaskier accused him and turned back around to the keep. "For months I've dreamt of this moment and what do you do? You mock me, truly a horrible habit, that- oh, gods, Geralt, it's so beautiful!"

"Hmm," he answered, watching Jaskier intently. The childish glee on his face, the snowflakes dancing around him and melting in his hair. "I guess so."

"Can we go inside?"

Another barbed comment was already on the tip of his tongue, but Geralt guessed that he shouldn't ruin the moment. Not if Jaskier was so happy. "We can. Come on."

They were still a good distance away when the gates creaked open and three bulking figures stepped outside. "You're early," he accused Eskel and Lambert once they caught up to them. They weren't supposed to be there. They were messing up Step Five: Meet the family. (Lambert Eskel Lambert Vesemir first.)

"And you're impolite," Vesemir grumbled. "I taught you better, Geralt."

"Hmm," he answered and the silence that followed might've been awkward if not for Jaskier.

Thanks to him there was no silence at all, to be precise. "You must be Vesemir; Geralt told me so much about you. Dare I say, Master Witcher, I am honoured and humbled by the invitation, and am looking forward to my stay. The name's Jaskier and I am at your service," he concluded and bowed with a flourish.

The three witchers gaped at him in surprise and Geralt couldn't help but grin. No overly detailed stories by him could've possibly prepared them for... well, Jaskier. "What," Lambert muttered quietly, "the fuck?"

"Now, that's just rude," Jaskier said as he straightened himself, "don't you think? Geralt, your brother is being rude to me."

It was all he could do not to laugh freely. Instead he shrugged and said: "Told you he's the rude one."

"Oh, you're Lambert!" The bard grinned widely and stretched out his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

Lambert huffed in surprise and shook the offered hand. "Tell you what, bard, I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended."

"Offended," Geralt mumbled just as Eskel said: "Flattered."

Jaskier smiled widely and wickedly. "Both."

Lambert opened his mouth, presumably to return a rude comment, but Jaskier's attention was diverted by Eskel, who gave him a thorough once-over and then nodded. "Welcome to Kaer Morhen, bard."

"Thank you, uh, Eskel?" he hazarded a guess.

A smile tugged on the unscarred corner of his mouth. "That's right."

"Dinner's in an hour," Vesemir cut in. "Maybe you could show our guest to his room, Geralt?"

Right. With the meeting out of the way it was time for Step Six: Show him to his room (Make sure it has some nice fur rugs - Vesemir) (Shag him on the rug - Lambert) (Offer to stay with him if he's cold - Eskel). Both of those additions seemed equally daunting to him.

But before he could even think of an excuse as to why he couldn't do that right now, Roach's reins were ripped from his hands and they were being pushed towards the keep.

"Well, they're certainly eager to get rid of you, considering they haven't seen you for a year," Jaskier quipped once they were inside the keep proper.

"That's not- hmm." 'Fuck.' He had almost betrayed himself. "They'll be different after dinner," he promised. "Besides, you know they can hear you."

"So?" He huffed a laugh. "I know they're just like you; all bark and no bite."

He was about to deny that claim but Lambert's offended howl that reached him from the courtyard quickly changed his mind. That definitely was worth the jab at his own ego. "Come on," he urged, smiling, "no need to continue playing the jester for them any further."

"Why, is there any issue with providing entertainment for a living?" Jaskier teased.

"Only if it's at the expense of me."

He sighed dramatically. "That I know, my dear. That I know."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to give you a tour of the keep."

"You are? Oh, I wouldn't have noticed." Geralt shot him a dirty look. Jaskier snickered maliciously, the bastard. "Oh, yeah, yep. Shutting up. Go ahead, Sir Witcher, show me your magnificent home."

From anyone else it might've been mockery. It might've been mockery from Jaskier, too, if not for the sound of absolute awe in his voice as he took in their surroundings.

Geralt could hardly blame him. It might've been a long time since he had arrived at Kaer Morhen, but he still remembered how dumbstruck he had been at the sheer immensity of the place that should become since home.

It had lost its mysticism since then, but seeing Jaskier's childlike wonder as he led him through the kitchens and great hall made him remember. He showed him the library, too, as well as the stairs down to the hot springs that he must never, ever confuse with those that led to the laboratories.

He closed with the rooms the various witchers claimed as their own: "That's Lambert's room down the hall, don't go there, he's a prick; Vesemir is a few floors below us, claims he's too old for our squabbles; that's mine, and that one's Eskel's, ask him if you need something and I'm not there, not Lambert, he's an arsehole-"

"Geralt," Jaskier said soothingly and put a hand on his arm, "you're rambling."

"Am I?" he asked confused. "Don't think so."

"There's no need to be nervous, dear. I won't abandon you; you're stuck with me for the winter."

"I'm not nervous," Geralt insisted, his fingers twitching nervously.

"Right," Jaskier took his hand away, evidently not very convinced. "I'm sorry for interrupting you, then."

"Don't be," he mumbled, not quite able to tear his gaze from Jaskier's gentle smile.

"Geralt?"

"Hm?"

"Do I-" He started fidgeting with his lute strap. "Do I have a room, too? I mean, not that I mind sharing with you, that's not the issue at all- gods, I sound stupid-"

His eyes still trained on Jaskier, he reached behind him and opened the door. "There."

"That's my room?" he asked without turning around to look inside.

"That's yours," Geralt confirmed. He had prepared it last winter already. Just in case.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, the poet whirled around and rushed into the sparsely furnished room. He looked very much... out of place. The realisation hit him like a slap in the face; but apparently the visual of Jaskier and his bright purple doublet in the grey empty walls of Kaer Morhen was what it took for him to realise how little they were reconcilable.

For the first time in his life he felt self-conscious for his home. "'S not much," Geralt mumbled.

"It's wonderful." Jaskier beamed, carefully inspecting the bed and the rug, peering out the window and into the chest. "Might get a bit cold, though."

He grumbled something he knew to be unintelligible to humans into his beard.

"What was that, love?"

"You could always stay with me," he spoke up. "Y'know. We've shared before."

"That we have! You might find that before long you will be forced to let me take you up on your generous offer."

"Hmm," Geralt answered and left him to it, in order to complete Step Six.5: No, let him arrive first, you idiot! There would be no 'being forced' of any kind, but he wasn't quite ready to admit that to Jaskier, yet.

Despite their apparent incompatibility Jaskier settled into the routine of Kaer Morhen disturbingly quickly. Though 'settle into' wasn't quite the right choice of words. More like 'tear it down and build it anew, but with lyrics, laughter, and luminosity'.

The evening of their arrival was truly mortifying, the worst mix of embarrassing stories of Geralt's childhood and very inappropriate questions directed at Jaskier. Geralt had spent the whole dinner frozen in shock and awe at the masterful display of the bard's craftsmanship.

After an hour of vicious cross-examination, the three witchers had finally backed off. And as Vesemir had retreated to his rooms, Lambert had brought up the alcohol. It hall had spiralled out of Geralt's control after that.

Within the hour Lambert and Jaskier were japing and jabbing at each other as if they were lifelong friends and not acquaintances since a few hours. It took his bard three days to have Vesemir completely wrapped around his finger, intently listening to his droning lectures about basically everything. And not even a fortnight into their stay, he found Jaskier and Eskel in the library, talking with hushed voices. He quickly retreated but not before he heard Jaskier telling his brother how beautiful he was, scars or no scars, and Eskel sniveled quietly.

A month since their arrival saw them trapped into the castle by the heavy snowfalls. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Vesemir from drilling them mercilessly.

They were an hour into their morning routine when they all perked at the sound of soft footsteps passing through the hall. "Jaskier," Geralt said softly.

The bard was bundled up in several quilts, his face barely visible beneath the mess of his hair and the blankets. Still his face lit up with the brightest smile when he saw them. "Mornin', lads," he croaked, "lookin' good, keep it up." He gave them a tired thumbs-up and shuffled off to the kitchen, where Vesemir would provide him with a hot breakfast with a side of 'most-boring-information-on-this-earth'. It was their own morning routine of sorts, and the three of them knew it wouldn't be long before they were discussing the 'merits of the iambic pentameter in 10th century love poetry' or some shit.

"Fuck," Lambert cursed once they knew Jaskier to be out of earshot, "I really can't blame you, Geralt. Too much time with him and I start gawking like a love-sick idiot, too."

"Hmm," Geralt agreed. Jaskier definitely had that effect.

"Jealous, wolf?" Eskel inquired with a knowing smile.

"No," he answered earnestly. If anything, he loved Jaskier more for it. His family wasn't easy to deal with, he knew. But his bard didn't care. He had so much affection to give, even for witchers. 'Especially for witchers.' He closed his eyes with a happy smile.

"Y'know, there's still a couple of steps left on our list," Eskel informed him casually.

Geralt's eyes snapped open as his heart sped up. 'Fuck.' The plan. "Hmm."

"Just fucking get it over with," Lambert yearned. "Your pining isn't any less obnoxious just because he's here."

"If anything, it's gotten worse," Eskel agreed.

"So?" he snapped. He had put it off, that was true. Had waited for the snow, he told himself, but now the snow was here and-

"So, we'll distract him this afternoon," Eskel interrupted his spiralling thoughts.

"And you pull your head outta your arse and fucking follow through," Lambert added.

"Fine," he ground out. "We do that." Not before he kicked both their arses during their training, though, for being such utter dicks.

Before long, however, the inevitable happened. Morning passed over to noon, and, true to their words, Lambert and Eskel whisked Jaskier away after lunch. They left Geralt behind in the hall with a branch in his hands and nothing left to do but complete Step Seven: Hang up a mistletoe.

"Fuck," he muttered. Nearly one year had passed since they had come up with their conspiracy. One year to gather his courage, one year to come up with a plan, one year to at least think about where to fucking put it. "Fuck," he said again, for good measure.

He looked around. Looked to the rafters. Looked at the mistletoe. "Fuck it," he declared and tucked it away to scale up to the rafters.

He was already up there, dangling from one of the beams when he remembered that he had nothing to secure it with besides the silky ribbon that would never fit around it. He scowled darkly. He sure as hell wouldn't climb down and up again. Without further ado he pulled his dagger from his belt and drove it deep into the wood, pinning the mistletoe by the ribbon.

He climbed down again, making sure that it was visible from the ground. 'Perfect,' he decreed. With the mistletoe in place, it was now time for Step Eight: Have Lambert and Eskel inform Jaskier of the mistletoe and a strategically placed Geralt. 

He spun around to go and alert his brothers, when he heard a cheerful voice behind him: "Geralt! There you are, you mean witcher, I was wondering where you were hiding. You know, it is not nice to leave your, uh- bedmate all alone and freezing in the morning, and- oh." There was a thoughtful pause. "Now would you look at that."

Geralt heaved a long sigh. He dreaded turning around, for he had a very distinct feeling he knew already what he would see. And fuck, he was not ready for that step. For some stupid reason, he still did turned around.

Jaskier stood in the middle of the hall, squinting up at the ceiling. "Are my eyes deceiving me — and they might be, mind you, my eyes are not as good as a witcher's — or is that a mistletoe I spy up there."

He cursed internally. He knew he should've hung it lower. "Hmm," he answered, his heart beating in his throat. Why was his heart beating in his throat? It wasn't supposed to do that. His voice was surprisingly calm when he said: "Seems like it."

"Oh no!" he moaned woefully. "Quick, Geralt, come here and lift the curse!"

"Curse?" he inquired bemusedly as his feet moved without his volition. "What curse, Jaskier?"

The bard gasped. "Don't you know? When someone passes beneath a mistletoe, they are frozen to the spot until the curse is broken."

"Hmm," he stepped under the mistletoe, too. He should've known Jaskier would make up a story around this. It was just a tradition, for fuck's sake, no curse. Although a curse was certainly more romantic, even he had to admit that. "Must be a rare curse if a witcher's never heard of it."

"The rarest," Jaskier insisted and pointed at his cheek. "It may only be broken with a true love's kiss."

In light of what happened next, let it be known that, in Geralt's defence, he was panicking. Quite thoroughly so. Since the Trials his legs hadn't shaken like that anymore.

He had been promised a pep talk by his brothers before having to confront the situation at hand. And yet they were nowhere to be found and Jaskier was here, evidently expecting him to kiss him.

'Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck.' He was not ready; he was not ready; he was not-

"Geralt?" Jaskier ripped him from his thoughts. "Are you waiting till my nose grows icicles, or what?"

Still, he leaned forward, placing one hand on Jaskier's hip and the other on his shoulder, and pecked him on the cheek.

The cheek. That had not been the plan. That had not been the plan at all. And then, of all things, he heard himself ask: "Can you move again?"

Jaskier blinked, looking just as dumbstruck as Geralt felt. "I- I think so?" he stammered and moved to pull away, blushing furiously.

'Fuck, no,' he remembered thinking. And while he wasn't quite in control of his limbs again, what he did next was probably the single most clever thing he had done in his entire life. Gingerly almost, he tightened his grip on Jaskier. His head tilted to the side, an invitation, an escape.

His bard didn't move. Instead, he said: "Doesn't seem like it."

"Hmm," Geralt answered and leaned in closer. "Difficult curse, seems like. Let me try again."

Before he could even think of changing his mind, Jaskier had his arms looped around Geralt's neck and crushed their lips together. He did his best to reciprocate the kiss, which wasn't easy with fear still gripping his heart tightly, but then Jaskier crowded closer, moulding his body against Geralt's and that was all it took for the tension to seep from his bones and go limb.

It was a weird sensation; being wrapped in Jaskier's arms was so familiar, but he was also kissing Jaskier, which was new- 'Great gods, I am kissing Jaskier, I am kissing Jaskier, I am-'

He pulled back with a triumphant grin, evidently startling his bard. "What?" he asked, very confused.

"I am kissing you," he announced, his grin widening even more.

Jaskier frowned. "That you are, but-"

"I am kissing you," he said again and pecked him on the lips. "And I can keep doing it."

"Oh!" The frown eased away, giving way to the softest of smiles. "That you can, my dear."

So, Geralt did. Again. And again. And again, and again, and again. He didn't know how many times he had kissed Jaskier, how many times Jaskier had kissed him, before he pulled back and blurted: "I love you."

Jaskier stared at him in silent awe, before blushing and cupping his cheeks gently. "That you do, my love," he whispered. "And I love you, too." Softly, he pressed their lips together again.

"You do?" Geralt asked disbelievingly.

Jaskier smirked. "I do. For years and years, I have. I thought you knew."

"Fuck," he muttered. Did that mean... 'I didn't have to do any of this.' He could've just- "I'm an idiot."

"Only sometimes," he allowed, giggling sillily. Geralt was compelled to join in. "Besides, you’re my idiot, and I love you for it." He shifted a little, so he could lean his head comfortably onto Geralt's shoulder despite them being nearly the same height. 

"So," Jaskier drawled, curling a strand of Geralt's hair around his finger, "are we just going to keep standing here, or...?"

He scoffed. Of course, they wouldn't. He had a plan, after all. "Fuck." The plan.

Jaskier raised his head. "Is that a curse or an answer?"

"Yes," he answered warily.

It earned him the most beautiful snorting laugh he had ever heard. "What are you cursing at, love?"

"We skipped Step Eight," he admitted, "got right to Step Nine."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Step Nine: Kiss Jaskier." The poet just gawked at him. "I had a list," he explained.

"You had?" Jaskier's eyes lit up and he made grabby hands. "Show me, show me!"

Reluctantly, Geralt handed it over, studying Jaskier's face carefully as he read through it.

"I knew it," Jaskier concluded finally.

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on!" He threw up his hands. "You were acting weird all year round, Geralt! Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but still, weird. It took me about ten minutes to figure out there was some ploy at play." He laughed quietly and waved the paper around. "Though I never would've guessed what was amiss."

"You don't like it."

"On the contrary! It's a wonderful plan," the poet said and pecked him on the lips. "I've got to admit, though, Lambert was right: you should've just fucked me on that rug once we got here."

"Hmmm." Geralt nuzzled against Jaskier's neck, holding him closer when he tried to squirm away from the tickling sensation. "That still an option?"

"Very much so. I believe it has to be one more step before completing your list." He pulled him close and whispered against his lips: "Take me to bed, my love"

And how could Geralt refuse such a request? Especially if it coincided so luckily with Step Ten.

[just-come-baek]

Merry Crisis

Pairing: hockeyplayer!jungkook x pickpocket!reader

Themes: smut | fluff | sports!au | christmas!au | yyy... action?

Word count: 12k

Summary:  During a casual meeting with friends at a local ice rink, a handsome boy bumps into me. Though it was just a small accident, a series of extraordinary adventures follow, helping me realize I should really change some of my life choices.

Warnings: tooth-rooting fluff | jungkook is the goodest boy | jungkook, hoseok, and jimin are hot hockey players | ice rink injuries | violence | pickpocketing | alcohol consumption | improper babysitting | namjoon, jin, and taehyung are of different age | questionable choices | teasing | graphic scene descriptions | police questioning | vanilla smut | thigh riding | unprotected sex | jungkook says like one (1) dirty line

A/N if you get uncomfortable during this story, just stop reading. it gets weird later on. Also, sorry for posting it so late, it’s still Christmas somewhere!

4 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

“What the hell are we doing here?” Kibum asked for the tenth time as he nearly slipped, even though his hands were glued to the railing. “None of us can skate for fuck’s sake,” he remarked, not being careful enough to watch his tongue, letting children hear his foul language. “We should’ve gone drinking mulled vine instead of this nonsense.”

“Speak for yourself. I am a decent skater,” I argued, though it was maybe my third time on the ice rink. The surface was slippery, yet I was brave enough to try my luck without sticking to the railing at all times.

Whoosh!

Kibum and I turned our heads around to see a few men racing on the rink like lunatics going probably at least two thousand miles per hour. They were skating so fast we barely could get a blurry image of their backs – fucking show-offs.

“Can you believe it? Fucking road hogs wanting to kill us all,” Kibum complained, searching for an exit with his eyes, desperate to get the hell away from the ice rink. “I’ve seen enough TV to know how this ends. Someone is going to leave this paddock with a blade in their neck,” he added, and I cursed in disgust, trying to erase the vivid picture my mind conjured.

“You really can ruin everything, can’t you?”

“Isn’t why you brought me here in the first place?” Kibum challenged, readjusting his woolen scarf around his neck in a fabulous diva manner. “Come on, go get Yeri. I’ll wait on the bench,” he ordered, clumsily escaping that icy trap.

“I think your cousin wouldn’t appreciate me going over there,” I stated, spotting her on the other side of the rink, flirting with a cute guy. “Now, that would be so cruel,” I added, leaning over the railing, staring at Kibum ineptly wobbling to the bench.

“What?” Kibum barked in an over-protecting manner, looking for the unworthy punk wasting Yeri’s time. “Just bring her here, please. I’m gonna treat you to lunch.”

“You should’ve said that earlier. I’m on it,” I said, content with how much I stalled the conversation to get a free meal from Kibum for completing such an easy task.

Having pushed myself off the railing, I made my way towards Yeri. She was basically at the opposite end of the ice rink, so I was forced to skate around lovely-dovey couples in the rhythm of overhyped Christmas songs.

Halfway there, the DJ ordered changing directions, so with a loud groan, I obediently turned around. Unfortunately, one of the speeding men didn’t halt quick enough and smashed right into me, ungracefully knocking me into the ice.

Crash!

It was a painful fall for both of us. If it wasn’t for the beanie with a big fluffy faux ball at the top of it, I’d most likely end up in hospital with a third-degree concussion and possible skull fraction.

Though I was in a mild shock, I could feel a nearing headache and blood dripping down my chin after his forehead collided against my nose. With his knee sharply boring into my thigh, I whined, trying to push him off of me.

At this point, I didn’t care about his injuries. He was the one who bumped into me in the first place; he deserved all the pain he was experiencing. Hopefully, it was similar to mine. According to Newton’s third law of motion, he ought to feel the same amount of pain, and if he sensed it any less, I was about to become livid about the lie I had been told at school.

“Get off of me!” I yelled, once again trying to shove him to the side. Huffing in defeat, I accepted my death by freezing my ass off due to a motionless pile of muscles lying on top of me. “Dude, move,” I tried again, and the man winced, sliding to the side.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered, whimpering in ache. “Are you okay?”

“Been better,” I remarked, trying to sit up. However, as soon as I was in a sitting position, I started to feel dizzy – the surroundings just kept spinning in front of my eyes.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Two men and Yeri scared in unison as they made their way towards us. “It was quite a fall,” one of them added, making me roll my eyes. His friend literally smashed me off the ice like a bulldozer – I wouldn’t call it a fall.

“She’s bleeding,” Yeri mentioned, looking for a bag of single-use handkerchiefs to give me one to aid my problem.

“How many fingers do you see?” the other man leaned over, showing me his palm, and I swatted his hand away with an angry hiss. “You’ve hit her bad, Jungkook. Good luck apologizing to her,” he commented, making it really difficult for me not to kick him in the shin with the blade.

“Is this a joke to you?” Yeri challenged the man, not particularly enjoying his comment. Attagirl! “You better make yourself useful and carry them off the rink,” she ordered sternly, her voice laced with concern.

“Hold on, beautiful,” the shorter one said before he bent to pick me up and wrap his arms around my shoulders to carefully escort me out of the ice rink. Slowly, we staggered to the benches where the man helped me sit down. “I’m Jimin, and you are?”

“In a tremendous amount of pain,” I replied, massaging my head, trying to ease the throbbing. I was about to get a headache of a century, and they kept asking me these stupid questions.

“I’m fine, Hoseok, put me down,” the man, who had smashed into me, complained as his friends dropped him at the bench beside me. “I’ve been through worse,” he groaned, and I gritted my teeth, trying to stop my instinct to cause another scene.

Thankfully, I’ve got Kibum, who would channel his inner Karen to argue for me.

“You stupid fucks, look what you’ve done!” Kibum yelled, hitting Jungkook in the back of his head, making everyone gasp in shock. “What were you thinking, skating this fast? You’re lucky she didn’t end up with a blade stuck in her throat, or else, I’d have to murder you!”

“Guys, stop shouting,” I whispered, barely withstanding the pain. “Can we please go somewhere quiet?”

On cue, Kibum and Yeri went to get my stuff. At the same time, Jungkook’s friends walked away from us to get their belongings, leaving me alone with the villain himself.

“I’m really sorry,” Jungkook apologized once again, being considerate enough to volume down his words. “Come on. Let me help you,” he stood up, offering his hand to escort me out of the tent. Unwillingly, I grabbed his palm, allowing him to save me from random shouts of joy and repetitive Christmas hits.

Once outside, I felt a little bit better, but it was still far from perfect.

“How are you feeling? Should I take you to a hospital?” Jungkook inquired as he looked into my eyes, trying to detect any lie.

“Nah, I’m good. I think I’ll just walk it off,” I shook my head, trying to stand up to demonstrate my current state. Unfortunately, I was still a little bit shaken after the fall, almost collapsing onto the ground. “On a second thought, I’m gonna sit here for a while,” I added, sheepishly, experiencing an unfamiliar feeling of helplessness.

In silence, Jungkook and I started at each other, unsure what to do or say next. We were just two strangers who participated in an accident. Our friends were nowhere to be found, giving zero fucks about the uncomfortable moment between us.

“Should we exchange numbers?” Jungkook suddenly asked, making me crease my eyebrow in confusion. What did he need my phone number for? “When there’s a car accident, both parties exchange contact info to work out a settlement,” Jungkook explained, and I sighed, trying to digest what he just said. Apparently, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. “Please, don’t sue me,” he added with a light-hearted giggle to his tone as he sat down on the bench.

“I didn’t plan on doing that, but since you’ve mentioned it, I’ll think about it,” I teased, reaching into my coat’s pocket to get my phone. “Give me your number, I’ll ring you,” I muttered, carefully typing Jungkook’s digits into my device. After a few seconds, Jungkook’s phone vibrated, flashing my number.

“Under what name did you save me?” Jungkook asked in curiosity, looking over my shoulder, cackling when he read totally suing this guy on the screen. “Well… at least you didn’t save me under do not pick up the phone, so that’s a relief,” he added, laughing at his joke.

Though I was a little bit curious how Jungkook saved my number, ultimately, I decided not to entertain this impulse. After all, the chances of him actually calling me were slim, if not none.

“What’s your name?” Jungkook asked, but before I managed to give him a proper reply, Kibum shouted it loud and clear from afar. “Duly noted,” he added with a tiny grin.

Along with Yeri and Jungkook’s friends, he made his way toward us, having the guys carry all our stuff like indebted servants.

“You’ll never guess,” Kibum stated, plopping on the bench beside me. At this point, I wasn’t in the mood for charades, so I just rolled my eyes, failing to accordingly react to Kibum’s attempted suspense.

Thankfully, Yuri chimed in, revealing the big plan. “We’ve talked to the guys, and they proposed to treat all of us to dinner. The race was their idea, so they figured it’s one way to make it up to you for you know what,” Yuri explained, and I sighed.

Hooray!

That’s exactly what I needed, to spend more time with the asshole that slammed into me with the force of a hundred horses.

Perfectly splendid.

“Sure, that sounds amazing,” I replied through gritted teeth, staring at that cheap bastard Kibum. He owed me dinner, so he used his sly manipulation to guilt-trip these naïve boys into treating all of us for a meal.

“See? I told you guys she doesn’t hold grudges against people who provide her with food,” Kibum answered, not surprising me all that much. I was accustomed to his ways. Jungkook, Hoseok, and Jimin, on the other hand, were about to get exploited to Kibum’s heart’s content.

But hey, free food, there’s no way I’d say no to that.

Fifteen minutes later, we were walking down the alley, looking for a restaurant or a diner that was able to provide a table for six. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on our side.

It was a long stroll. All establishments were either packed with people, or they simply weren’t capable of catering for such a large group like ours.

We didn’t give up, though. In pairs, we walked further, our stomachs growling louder and louder. Hoseok and Jimin were leading the way, chatting about some hockey game somewhat this week. Right behind, Kibum was giving a lecture on relationships to Yeri, being the highly unnecessary third parent to her. And lastly, there was Jungkook and me, awkwardly trailing behind all of them, talking about nothing in particular, unable to find a ground topic for a proper conversation.

At some point, a man in an expensive black coat bumped into me, smashing his shoulder against mine. It was quite a powerful collision on the sidewalk, resulting in me falling right into Jungkook’s arms.

“Hey, watch where the hell you’re going,” I yelled, massaging my limb to ease the soreness, while the man didn’t seem to pay any attention to my angry shout.

“Hey, you should really apologize,” Jungkook hollered at the man, standing up for me. Unfortunately, the man didn’t reflect his misbehavior even after Jungkook stepped in. He barely turned his head around to check what that was about, dismissing it a few seconds later.

“Let it go; he’s not worth it,” I wrapped my hand around Jungkook’s shoulder, stopping him from confronting the rude asshat. “Karma is gonna get him,” I added with a smirk upon my face as I imagined how much cash he had in his wallet – which, in fact, was at the bottom of my pocket right now.

It ought to teach him a lesson.

“It’s your unlucky day,” Jungkook admitted, feeling sorry for my misfortune.

“Well… it’s not that bad,” I assured Jungkook with a happy beam, realizing my mistake the second the words left my mouth. Fantastic, I was just enthusiastic about the cash I found lying all over the ground. However, now, Jungkook must’ve thought I was into him.

Dear Lord, save me from this misunderstanding.

Before Jungkook managed to question my ambiguous comment, Jimin and Hoseok shouted. Apparently, they found a restaurant with a large enough table to fit us all.

At last!

Once inside, we quickly sat down, ready to skim through the menus. Honestly, we were all hungry way past the I-need-my-food-tasty stage, so we decided to order two giant pizzas and six pints of Christmas Ale beer.

“I think we should play a game before our food arrives,” Jimin proposed as he looked at the people by the table, not appreciating the awkwardness. Within Jimin were two wolves – one was a social butterfly, and the other was a people pleaser. Sitting in an uncomfortable silence irked him immensely. “How about a little integration, anybody?”

“You have to excuse him,” Hoseok interjected, trying to calm the angry crowd of grownups. “Jimin’s going to be a counselor on a hockey camp during the winter break, and sometimes, he forgets he’s not talking with middle-school pupils.”

“You’re never too old for some good old bonding,” Jimin fought his case, really keen on getting to know us better. “Especially over some beer,” he added when the waitress walked up to our table with our beverages.

Though none of us wanted to participate in Jimin’s fun activities, we eventually gave in, realizing his persistence was even more energy-draining than the bonding games themselves.

The rules were simple, you had to name three finds you love and three things you hate. Jimin went first, and it was actually quite funny to see the contrast between him and Kibum, who was the second to speak up.

“I love Mexican food, horror movies, and money,” I confessed when it was my turn, having no regrets. After all, we would never meet again. “I hate banana milk, wireless earphones, and doing laundry,” I added, completing the horrid task, making everyone at the table grow silent. Cocking my brow upward, I asked, “what?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok replied, still trying to comprehend the situation. “It’s just unbelievable.”

With each syllable that rolled off Hoseok’s tongue, I knew less and less. What the hell was going on? Could somebody explain to me what the fuss was all about?

“Basically, Jungkook loves all the things you hate,” Jimin finally explained, making Kibum cackle in entertainment.

“Ooh-la-la, the plot thickens,” Kibum snickered, laughing loudly, kicking his head backward.

“Ignore him. He’s just being a drama queen for no reason,” I interjected, ignoring Kibum’s ridiculous reaction.

“Guys, look, the food is ready,” Yeri said in excitement upon seeing our waitress walking toward us with delicious pizza in her hands. “I am so hungry,” she added, rubbing her hands together, licking her lips with appetite.

Thankfully, the rest of the evening went smoothly. After the beer and the food, the conversation sailed without any disturbance, everybody chiming in once in a while. A friendly atmosphere surrounded us, but we all felt it was the first and final meeting. Our groups had completely different vibes, and though we had somewhat fun, there was no point in forcing this friendship any further.

In an amicable mood, we parted ways.

Having dropped Yeri at her dorm, Kibum and I took an Uber to our shared apartment.

“I am dying,” I complained, stretching my arms as soon as I walked through the threshold of our comfy place. Having hung the coat, I fished out the stolen wallet. “I deserved a long bath,” I added, plopping down onto the couch, looking through the content of my newest possession.

“You really have to stop doing that. You’re gonna get caught one time,” Kibum mentioned as he sat down beside me, tearing the wallet out of my hands, browsing through the loyalty cards, looking for a bargain. “When did you even steal it? I was by your side the whole time,” Kibum wondered as he found a coupon for a free coffee amongst the plastic cards.

“You know what they say,” I started, counting the cash in my hands – almost two hundred bucks, not bad. “The first million is the hardest and is meant to be stolen,” I finished my thought, putting the cash into my purse.

“First of all, nobody has ever said that,” Kibum argued, groaning. It wasn’t the first time we had this conversation; at this point, we had this pep talk rehearsed to perfection. “You’re pushing your luck here. One day you’ll pick the wrong pocket.”

“What do you want me to say? I can’t stop now,” sighing, I replied. Maybe in the future, once I land a stable job with an adequate wage, I’ll quit. In this economy, it may be quite challenging, but that’s the goal. Right now, I was as poor as a church mouse, barely getting by each month on my level of living.

“I’m gonna be so pissed if the police catch you,” Kibum complained, giving up on his daily lecture. Trying to convince me was a vicious circle. Kibum felt as if he was trapped in some lame remake of Groundhog Day, only failing at knocking some common sense into his friend’s stubborn head.

“Take it easy. They won’t,” I mused with a light-hearted smile. “If you’re forgotten, you’re like super old. You’ll get bald if you keep worrying so much.”

“That’s a low blow,” Kibum mentioned, frowning in annoyance. Ever since he reached the dreadful thirty mark, it was his biggest insecurity. “Alright then,” he carried on, ready to attack me with just as strong jab. “What about Jungkook?”

“What about him?”

“You’ve had a moment.”

“What moment?” I inquired, pretending to be way clueless than I really was. “If, by moment, you mean that he basically nailed me into the ice, then yes.”

“You should’ve given him your phone number,” Kibum commented casually, and I turned my head around, avoiding his gaze. “Oh my, you actually gave it, I knew it,” he realized, looking right through me. “Finally, you need some. Later on, maybe he’ll talk you out of your bad habits,” Kibum carried on, blabbering nonsense.

“Don’t you think you’re getting way ahead of yourself?” I questioned, folding my arms over my chest. “I guess Jungkook’s a good guy, but he ain’t gonna call me.”

“You never know,” Kibum reasoned, and I sighed, walking away to the bathroom to run myself a relaxing bath, which was all that I needed.

 3 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

It was a terrible day.

First of all, I was still a bit sore after the ice rink accident. Then, I tried strolling along the bustling alleys, picking a few pockets. Unfortunately, people didn’t carry that much cash.

Having stolen three wallets, I only collected fifty bucks.

That was pathetic.

Sighing, I decided to call it a day.

Kibum would be so proud of me, I thought as I made my way to a random coffee shop, wanting to accidentally lose one of the wallets. That way, the rightful owner would have a chance of actually finding it if he decided to trace back his steps.

On my walk of shame back home, my phone randomly stopped playing music. Instantly, I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to fish it out of my pocket, knowing there was an incoming call waiting to be answered.

Normally, I’d either ignore it because I knew it was a spam call or just ignore it because I preferred texts to calls. Whoever opted to dial must’ve been devil’s spawn. No doubt.

Totally suing this guy.

Hmm… what does he want? I wondered as my thumb hovered over the answer icon on the screen. I wasn’t serious about suing him; it was just me teasing the poor guy. I didn’t actually mean it, and I thought it was obvious.

Before I managed to make up my mind about picking up the phone, Jungkook must’ve given up and hung up. Unfortunately, right when I was about to put it back in my pocket, I received another incoming call.

Totally suing this guy.

“Hello?” I asked, picking up the phone. Hopefully, he would check up on me and end the conversation. It was weird and uncomfortable, so it better be the last time.

“Hi, it’s Jungkook,” he said, sounding somewhat shy and timid. “From the ice rink, how are you feeling?” Jungkook inquired, and I sighed, getting mentally prepared for my reply.

“I’m better,” I answered shortly, not giving him any details on my condition. It was just a few bruises; I wasn’t dying. “Your knee left a bruise, but in a few days, I’m gonna feel all good,” I added, remembering the large mark on my thigh. It looked like a big ass hickey, but that’s the comment I was about to keep to myself.

“I’m really, really sorry,” he spoke through a tumult on his side of the call. He must’ve been in a crowded place, like a locker room packed with fellow hockey players or something. A second later, I heard a noise of shutting the doors close, assuming Jungkook must’ve left the room, wanting to continue this talk without any further disturbance.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I reassured that he cared so him. It was adorable much about my condition, but it was starting to feel a little bit excessive. A regular amount of repentance would be understandable, but he was quite over the top.

“Actually, it’s not why I’m calling,” Jungkook admitted, taking me aback. Why else would he call then? “It was just an excuse,” he added, and I genuinely started to wonder what was going on inside his head. He didn’t want to ask me out, did he?

Nah, it didn’t make any sense.

Get a grip, woman.

“Oh, why are you calling me then?” I challenged him as I couldn’t wait any longer for the big reveal. “What is so important that couldn’t be a simple text?”

“Well…,” Jungkook started, and I smiled, hearing in his tone that he was beaming. “To be completely honest, I really suck at texting. One time, I texted back my friend after a few months, so yeah, I’d rather call,” he explained, and though that’s not my preferred way of communicating, I found it adorable.

“Nobody’s perfect.”

“So, I was wondering if you’d like to hang out,” Jungkook asked, and I became speechless.

“Really? Why?” I questioned as I couldn’t find any reason why Jungkook would like to meet up with me. Yesterday, I had been grumpy as fuck – it was hard to believe he wanted to see my face ever again.

“What do you mean why?”

“I wasn’t particularly nice to you yesterday,” I admitted, looking down at my feet.

“You were just angry, it happens,” Jungkook claimed, once again surprising me – he wasn’t just good-looking. Besides his gorgeous looks, he, most importantly, was a kind, soft-spoken person with a heart of gold.

“Yeah, but still, I was an asshole.”

“No, it must’ve been that spur-of-the-moment kind of attitude,” Jungkook brushed it off without my thought, and I sighed in relief. Thankfully, he didn’t think I was a complete bitch. “I would be pissed too if someone tackled me down at a public ice rink.”

“Could we please stop talk about it?” I proposed, willing to put it all behind us.

“Sorry,” Jungkook apologized sheepishly, and I giggled, shaking my head, unable to process how adorable he was. “So, back to the topic, I was wondering if you’d like to come to that charity hockey game tomorrow,” he trailed off, a little bit insecure about my answer. “And after that, we could grab some coffee. I mean, if you don’t have any plans, I’d really like to meet up,” Jungkook added, sounding like a ball of a blabbering mess.

“Hmm… tomorrow, I am busy in the morning and early afternoon. What time does the game begin?” I questioned, buying myself more time to think over Jungkook’s proposition. He was a good guy, and I’d love to hang out, but I still had doubts.

“At three o’clock!” Jungkook exclaimed in excitement, probably hoping I was available to attend this charity event. “We’re raising money for a winter camp for kids from St. Paul’s orphanage. That’s the one Jimin’s gonna volunteer at.”

Now, there was no way I could say no.

“I should be free by then,” I answered, hoping I wouldn’t regret my decision later on.

“Fantastic, see you tomorrow,” Jungkook exclaimed happily, and I giggled at his enthusiasm.

“Ayo, Jeon, what are you giggling at?” Someone in the background hollered, teasing Jungkook. Though I thought it was cute and playful, Jungkook must’ve felt so embarrassed that he hung up before I managed to say my farewell.

 2 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS 

According to Jungkook’s instructions, the charity game out to start around 3 in the afternoon. A bit too early if you ask me, but who am I to judge the authorities who organized it? Nonetheless, I put on a nice outfit (effortless though chic) and made my way to the university’s stadium, ready to sit through the entirety of the game, already suspecting it wouldn’t appeal to my preferences. It was far too brutal to be enjoyable.

I had no interest in hockey, nor even knew the basics; however, Jungkook wanted me out of all people to support him. Normally, I’d skip, but there was just something about him that made it really difficult to say no to him. There I was – on university grounds during the holiday break, heading to the sports department where I had never stepped my foot willingly.

It was a charity event our university annually hosted. To be completely honest, it was the first time I heard of it. Moreover, there was a high chance I wasn’t the only one. Right in front of the entrance, there was no queue – I was the only one, and it was suspicious as fuck.

Unless I had first-hand info about the beginning of the game, I would just turn around and leave. However, Jungkook had specifically said 3 p.m., so I walked up to the entrance, seeing a man distributing tickets. He must’ve been one of the volunteering students. Admirable.

With a deep sigh, I pushed the doors open and entered the building. “One ticket, please,” I spoke, pulling out my wallet to pay for the entry fee. It was all for charity, so I gladly paid up the round sum. These kids really deserved a treat, and I’d love to contribute.

“You’re the first one to arrive; you must be a hardcore fan of our hockey team,” the friendly man said, and I just giggled at this obvious misconception.

Me? A fan? A hardcore one at that? Wow.  

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m here to support a friend,” I answered, denying the accusations with a casual response. “Where should I go?”

“Right this way, the first doors on the left,” the man answered with a happy beam. “Seats are not assigned, so be free to sit anywhere you like,” he added, and I bowed, thanking him for the directions. Though I was near graduation, I had no idea how to move around the building.

Having pushed the heavy doors open, I made my way to the bleachers.

A few players were skating across the ice rink, while the area for spectators was empty. As if that wasn’t awkward enough, all the players looked at me, whistling like a bunch of starved wolves. What the hell was that all about?

Ooh! Ooh! 

“Wow, Jungkook, this girl really came,” one of the boys, probably Hoseok, shouted loud enough for me to hear. What? Did Jungkook talk about me with his teammates? What for? Or did they listen to us chat on the phone the other day? Even so, what’s with the reaction?

At first, I wanted to turn around and run away. I didn’t like the way they looked at me. It resembled a combination of concern for their younger teammate and playful support for whatever was about to stem between us. Ridiculous!

Then, I considered sitting in the last row, ignoring their curious glances. I’d probably pull a book out of my bag and devote myself to the plot for the duration of the game.

Unfortunately, none of my ideas seemed to be possible – especially not when one of the players with number 1 written on the sports uniform skated toward the railing. It must’ve been Jungkook. I mean… who else would that be?

Once he took off his helmet, I realized that my suspicion was right. It was indeed Jungkook with his messy, sweaty hair and a goofy smile upon his face. He was waving at me, enticing me closer to the ice rink.

“You really came,” Jungkook whispered when I walked up to him. “I really doubted you did,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at him. 

“If I didn’t, you would keep calling me,” I answered playfully, still unable to comprehend how, on earth, he preferred calling to texting. It was ridiculous; he couldn’t be that bad at replying as he had claimed. “And also, why am I here this soon? Where is everybody? Care to explain?” I asked, my tone slightly laced with anger. 

“Did I really say 3 o’clock?” Jungkook inquired innocently, staring at the big clock on the scoreboard. “My bad, I fucked it up, sorry,” Jungkook apologized, but I suspected his words weren’t entirely genuine. Apparently, he wanted me to come this soon, and I had to figure out why.

“Also, care to explain why your teammates stare at me like that,” I questioned, cocking my eyebrow, looking past Jungkook’s shoulder. The hockey team really seemed to be invested in what was going on between Jungkook and me, and I didn’t like the way they were gawking at me as if I had two heads growing out on my shoulders.

“Oh, I might’ve got caught talking to you yesterday,” he mentioned as if I didn’t already suspect that. “Apparently, I looked like an embodiment of teenage crush, and they keep teasing me about it. I am sorry if they creep you out,” Jungkook explained, and I beamed, thinking it was actually pretty cute.

“They’re your friends; that’s what friends do.”

“Hey, Jeon, quit flirting and get your ass on the rink. We’ve all gotta warm-up,” the coach hollered, urging Jungkook to return to his teammates. Though it was just an out of the season game, their coach didn’t want to lose anyway.

“Good luck, Jeon,” I whispered, shooing him away from me, really trying to give him a chance for a proper warm-up before the match. “Don’t let anyone tackle you down. It’s not that pleasant,” I added with an encouraging smile.

“I got it,” Jungkook spoke, sending me a cute wink.

Just as I asked him to, Jungkook skated away, only to come back around ten seconds later.

“By the way, you’ve got any plans after the game?” Jungkook asked, waiting for my answer with utter impatience. “I thought maybe we could grab something to eat.”

“Well… that depends,” I replied, and Jungkook cocked up his eyebrow.

“Depends on what?”

“Ask me again after you win the game,” I teased, giving him some extra motivation to try his best on the rink. “Go, they’re waiting.”

And with that, Jungkook finally got his head in the game.

The coach shouts tips and occasionally scolds players that aren’t on their best performance. In the meantime, people fill up the seats on the bleachers, excited to see the match and open their wallets for the laudable cause.

By the time the match finally begins, I am bored out of my mind. I gave hockey a fair shot, but it didn’t raise my interest in the tiniest bit. It just wasn’t my thing.

Thankfully, I had a newly purchased book in my bag to pass the time. It was just a Christmas themed erotica with a half-naked Santa with a six-pack on the cover. It wasn’t anything promising, but the holidays were around the corner, so maybe it’d put me in the right mood.

Though I didn’t have high hopes for the novel, it felt disappointing. The plot was cliché, and the pace was too rushed, but nonetheless, I’d still choose it over a hockey game. Contact sports weren’t really my thing, especially when it was giving me PTSD.

From time to time, my eyes would locate Jungkook on the rink. He was really out there, showing off his talents, making people gawk in admiration. He was one of the best players in his team, scoring goal after goal. Or whatever they score in hockey.

It was an even match, but ultimately, our team won by two points.

“On children’s behalf, I’d like to thank everybody for coming,” a woman in smart clothing spoke through the microphone. It must’ve been the orphanage director showing her gratitude for all the money they had managed through the ticket sale. “My heart really melts when I see how many people decided to help our children, especially in this difficult time of the year,” she recited, putting the microphone away from her mouth before a grateful tear rolled down her cheek. “Thank you so much!”

Shortly after, she handed the microphone to Jungkook’s coach.

“Hi, everybody, I’m coach Min,” he introduced himself, and the spectators clapped their hands in gratitude for leading the team towards victory. “I’d like to thank everybody for donating the money. I hope the kids will enjoy their winter break,” he added, looking at the crowd, proud of so many people gathered to support the cause. “However, if you’d like to contribute, even more, my team will wait outside with boxes. With this extra money, we would like to buy Christmas gifts for these amazing kids. I wish you all – Merry Christmas.”

Another round of applause echoed among the walls before people slowly started to head towards the exit. Taking my time, I followed the crowd, looking for Jungkook. It was difficult; people were feeling generous today.

“Over here,” I heard somebody call my name, so I turned around, recognized Jimin. He was standing a few meters away with a heavy box stuffed with cash. “Would you like to make some children happy?” Jimin asked, placing the box right under my nose, wanting me to contribute some more. “What do you say?”

Although I had already paid the entry fee, I still wanted to give more. All the goodness I had witnessed at the stadium pulled my heartstrings; it was impossible to say no now. Once I started, I just couldn’t stop.

With a genuine smile, I pulled out my wallet. I had plenty of cash in it. Everything I had stolen during this week. It was about four hundred bucks. Without a slimmer of doubt, the team would spend it wisely. Better than I ever could.

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money,” Jimin asked, wondering if I was in the right state of mind donating so much.

“Yes, I am sure,” I confirmed, giving all of the money away. The feeling was deliberating, and it was really nice. “Oh my God, Jimin! What are you doing?” I asked in panic when Jimin put the box on the ground and picked me up, spinning around.

“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat before continuing, “am I interrupting something?” A familiar voice asked, making Jimin drop me down. Thankfully, I didn’t stumble. Somehow I found my balance before I hit my face against the pavement.

“Oh, Jungkook,” Jimin whispered, smiling awkwardly, almost as if we were caught cheating. “It’s not what it looks like,” he started, and I rolled my eyes. Literally, it was the worst phrasing he could choose, especially given the reputation this line holds. “I was just showing my gratitude after her generous donation.”

“Let’s just go,” I interjected before Jimin managed to embarrass me even more. With a smile upon my face, I grabbed Jungkook’s box and handed it over to Jimin. “Take care of that, okay?” I said, grabbing Jungkook’s hand, pulling him away from the campus ground.

Since it was quite chilly outside, Jungkook and I decided to grab drinks at the campus café. Having taken seats by the window in the back, we looked through menus to choose something delicious for our little informal date.

“Order anything you like; it’s my treat,” Jungkook mentioned before he proceeded to look through the menu. “You were my lucky charm today.”

“Well… of course, it’s your treat. I gave all my money away to charity,” I spoke, looking through the tea section for something I haven’t had before. “I’d like vanilla cinnamon tea,” I read out loud the position off the menu that really caught my attention.

“On it,” he added before he walked up to the counter to order. In a minute, he was back at the table, sitting comfortably at the other side of the table. “So… you and Jimin, huh?”

“Speaking of which, what kind of jealousy scene was that?” I inquired, teasing him for completely misunderstanding this situation.

“Sorry for that,” Jungkook apologized sheepishly, looking away. “It’s just it was so unexpected. I mean… you don’t know Jimin that well, and acting like that was quite strange,” Jungkook explained, and I nodded, trying to understand his reaction.

“Jimin’s cute. Is he single?” I asked, and Jungkook frowned upon my question, visibly upset with my wording. “What I meant is that I have a friend. I have a feeling they would click, you know,” I clarified, giggling when I saw relief wash through Jungkook.

“In that case, he’s very single,” Jungkook gladly answered, smiling brightly like an idiot. “After the last girl he was seeing dumped him a few months ago, he didn’t date. Maybe it’s about time he gets back to it,” he added, and I nodded, scribbling down my friend’s number on a piece of paper, sliding it over to Jungkook, believing he would pass it to Jimin.

“So… what are your plans for Christmas Eve?” I asked when the barista brought our order to the table. Apparently, Jungkook is quite a sweet-tooth. Beside my tea, he ordered a large cup of hot cocoa with roasted marshmallows on top along with four beautifully decorated cupcakes. I got cavities just by looking at it.

“I’m going Christmas shopping,” Jungkook answered, licking off some whipped cream off the pink cupcake. “I gotta buy gifts for the kids,” he added, and I smiled at the boy in front of me. Although I knew him only for two days, he kept surprising me.

In a good way, of course.

“Do you have any idea what I can get them?” Jungkook inquired, stuffing his mouth with the cupcake, enjoying his sweet treat. “There’s like thirty-five of them. I am clueless.”

“I don’t know… board games? Art supplies? Lego blocks? I’m sure you’ll figure this out,” I replied, suspecting I wasn’t much of a help.

“You could always come and join me,” Jungkook proposed, reaching for another cupcake. “I could use some help,” he added, pushing the tray with sugary treats towards me.

“I’d love to, but I will be at work, sorry,” I answered truthfully, now kind of regretting replying to that ad on Craigslist. “I’m babysitting tomorrow. Parents of three go on some business trip, and I have to watch them until their grandparents take over,” I explained, and Jungkook nodded, sipping his hot cocoa.

“Any plans after that?”

“I’ll just come back home and watch some Christmas movies on Netflix. This year, I don’t have time to go to my hometown. I gotta go to work as soon as Christmas is over,” I explained with a deep sigh. Although I wasn’t exceptionally family-oriented, it still felt a little bit odd to spend Christmas alone. “What about you?”

“My parents finally saved up enough money for the second honeymoon they always wanted to go, so there’s no real celebration this year,” Jungkook mentioned, showing real support for his parents. If that’s what they really wanted, he didn’t want to be a burden. “I’m really happy for them. Raising me and my brother wasn’t easy, so that’s the least we can do.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” I commented, wondering about Jungkook, his family, and their customs. “We could hang out tomorrow evening if you want to,” I proposed, and Jungkook beamed in utter joy, almost as if he waited for my offer.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Jungkook admitted, grinning like a child. “Come on, have some cupcake. I bought them for us.”

“I’m fine with my tea,” I replied, raising the cup to my mouth, taking a tiny sip. “I’m full just by looking at you eat,” I added, encouraging Jungkook to devour the rest of the goodies.

As if I didn’t know already, Jungkook proved to me one more time how charming he was. Though we had different opinions on some topics, we also had a lot in common.

This date was really informative. For example, I had no idea that Jungkook only plays in the hockey team for the scholarship. His true passion is photography and directing, and it’s actually his major. Moreover, he shared how much he likes to sings in the shower, for which he often gets teased by fellow teammates.

Maybe our first meeting was a tragedy, but the more time I spent with him, I began to realize that it was actually worth it to take this fall.

CHRISTMAS EVE

“My parents should arrive around seven,” the mother of three boys announced when she finally found a second to talk to me. “Jin is ten, Namjoon is eight, and Taehyung is five,” she added when the boys ran across the corridor, chasing one another.

“They’re adorable,” I commented, though I didn’t really mean it. I had no idea how the kids would behave when their parents would walk out the door.

“My sweet little angels,” she said with a deep sigh, feeling a bit sad that she had to leave her children alone on Christmas day. Unfortunately, whatever they had to tend to at work was way more important than spending holidays with their children. “How much money do I owe you?” She asked, being unaware of the amount her husband put on the advertisement.

“Five hundred,” I answered, and she nodded her head, giving me the correct amount.

Thankfully, the kids weren’t all that troublesome.

After their parents left for the airport, the children were a loud mess playing some console games. As long as they didn’t want me to participate in their fun activities, I didn’t mind the noise. I’d just simply wait for the grandparents to arrive.

Just two more hours; I can handle that.

“Can I have some candy?” Taehyung asked cutely, holding a bag of jelly beans in his hands. Usually, I’d say no. Kids tend to be hyperactive on the sugar rush. I didn’t want to have to deal with it, but then, I was quite impressed that he even bothered to ask for permission.

“Of course, sweetie, it’s Christmas,” I replied, tearing the packaging for him.

After the boys got bored, they wanted to play some board games with me. I wasn’t particularly interested in interacting with them but ultimately decided to join in. It’s been a while since I destroyed someone at Monopoly, so I might as well do it now.

Just one more hour; it’s almost over.

The boys had a particularly short attention span. The average game of Monopoly should take at least two hours – Jin, Namjoon, and Taehyung returned to their previous shenanigans, running around and screaming at one another maybe twenty minutes into the game.

Just when I was about to yell at them to keep quiet, I heard my phone ring. Under these circumstances, it was a blessing. At this point, I’d diligently answer all the questions the spam caller wanted to ask me. I was desperate for some interaction with an adult.

Having locked myself inside the bathroom, I answered the call, enjoying a little bit of peace and quiet. “Hello?” I asked, waiting for Jungkook to brighten my day.

“Hi, there,” he spoke cheerfully, “all gifts are bought and wrapped,” he added, proud of his today’s achievements. “What time do you finish up?”

“In an hour or maybe earlier,” I answered, looking at the wristwatch.

“Do you want me to pick you up? We could take a walk, and then just go with the flow,” Jungkook proposed, and I immediately said yes as I couldn’t wait for him to show up and rescue me from these children.

“I’d actually love that. I’ll text you the address,” I spoke, biting my bottom lip in excitement. One more hour and I’d walk away with five hundred bucks in my wallet.

When the clock struck seven o’clock, the grandparents were nowhere to be seen. They were running late, and I was growing impatient. Jungkook would be here any minute, and I wanted to leave. I tried calling their parents but to no avail. They must’ve already boarded the plane.

This situation was helpless – they were just little boys, I couldn’t leave them alone.

Thirty minutes later, I heard the bell. In a hurry, I opened the doors, wishing to see the grandparents on the other side. Unfortunately, much to my dismay, it was just Jungkook.

“Shall we go now?” Jungkook asked, eyeing me from head to toe, biting his lip. “Wow, you look amazing,” he added, and I stared down at my outfit consisting of a cute tight purple turtleneck, a short black skirt, and a pair of warm tights.

“I can’t go yet. Their grandparents aren’t here, and I don’t have a way of calling them,” I explained, and Jungkook sighed, taking off his shoes, willing to help me babysit.

“What is he doing here,” Jin asked, as he folded his arms around his chest, judging me for inviting someone to their household.

“He’s my friend who was supposed to pick me up after I’m done here, and since your grandparents are getting late, he’s staying, so be nice to him.”

“Whatever,” he grumped before running to the living room, joining his brothers on the couch.

We tried watching a movie. However, once again, the boys couldn't focus enough to last to the end of it. Then, I realized I royally fucked up by giving them sugar earlier. They wanted to play hide and seek, and I agreed with a tired sigh.

Unwillingly, I turned around to face the wall. I closed my eyes and began counting, giving them more than enough time to find the perfect hiding spot.

“Three, two, one,” I hollered, making sure they heard me.

The apartment was suspiciously silent and pretty dark. I could definitely feel that weird vibe often present in horror movies. First of all, I checked all the hiding spots in the living room. Then, when I was about to enter the corridor, I felt a presence behind me. Before I managed to react, a hand snaked around my body, covering my mouth, muffling my unexpected screams.

In a second, the person turned me around. I should’ve figured it out it was Jungkook. With a goofy smile, he mentioned me to remain quiet.

“What are you doing? This is not how you play this game,” I whispered, giving him a lecture, but Jungkook only laughed at my reaction.

“Look, they’re finally quiet. You should take your time finding the kids,” Jungkook suggested, and I hummed in agreement. He was right – I should cherish the silence. He was a genius. “Shh…,” he added, pressing his forefinger against his perfect lips.

Maybe the atmosphere wasn’t perfect, but I just couldn’t help myself. We were standing there in the dark, completely still. I couldn’t fight this temptation.

Acting out of my urge, I took a step forward and gave him a chaste kiss. It was a delicate brush of my lips against his, but it was just perfect. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed this innocent form of affection.

The moment I pulled away, Jungkook grinned, placing his hands on my hips. Staring down at me, he yanked me against his firm body, leaning forward for another kiss. Tenderly, his mouth moved, feeling my lips.

Within seconds, the kiss became even more passionate. Smiling, Jungkook began to nibble on the sensitive skin of my lips, and I hummed in pleasure. With my arms wrapped around his neck, I opened my mouth slightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

“Fuck,” Jungkook loudly cursed as he bit my bottom lip, making me shriek in pain. At first, I thought he was just getting turned on, but then I realized what happened. It was Taehyung. He was standing right beside Jungkook, smiling as if he did something inappropriate. “He bit me!” Jungkook exclaimed, massaging his thigh, trying to ease the pain.

“He bit you?” I asked, being confused as ever. “Is that true, Taehyung?” I questioned the boy, but instead of answering me, he ran away to another room, chuckling like a maniac. Now, that was odd. “What is going on?”

The grandparents were supposed to arrive over an hour ago; I was losing my patience here.

“This kid bit me,” Jungkook carried on, unable to comprehend this entire situation. Well… he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t wrap his head around this. What the fuck was wrong with them? “What is this?” Jungkook asked as he felt something on this thigh. “Ew, it’s his tooth!”

That was enough.

It was about time I set up some rules.

“Let’s find them, meet me in the living room in five minutes,” I ordered before we split up to search more ground. The boys were getting out of hand, and they had to be stopped. For the love of God, Taehyung bit Jungkook!

“Have you found them?” Jungkook hollered, and I shook my head.

They vanished.

“I know it’s very irresponsible, but how about ditching this place?” I offered, even though I already knew the answer. They were just kids; we couldn’t just walk out, leaving them alone.

“It’s tempting, but we shouldn’t do that,” Jungkook spoke, regretting making the adult decision. “Isn’t that Namjoon?” He asked, and I turned to look where he was pointing at.

“Wait there, young man!” I yelled, storming out of the room, following Namjoon. The second I turned to the left, Namjoon was nowhere to be seen. It was weird; he must’ve run into one of the rooms. Unfortunately, before I managed to make up my mind, which room I should check first, someone pushed me onto the ground. It made me fall on my knees, painfully bruising them. “What the fuck?” I looked behind my shoulder, seeing Jin bolt off to the living room.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked in concern as he approached me, helping me stand up. “What is wrong with them?”

“I have no idea. The boys seemed fine earlier,” I spoke, seeing Taehyung run towards us. In a matter of seconds, he jumped at Jungkook, wrapping his hands around his neck, dangling off his back. “Hold still,” I ordered, but Jungkook was in panic, afraid of earning another wound.

I wanted to peel the kid off Jungkook’s back, but there was something wrong with Taehyung. Though he was a good boy, right now, there was something inhuman about him. He behaved like a wild animal with rabies, and it crept me out as fuck.

Jungkook smashed his back against the wall, hoping Taehyung would loosen the grip around his neck. At this moment, Jungkook felt as if the little boy was strangling him.

Unfortunately, the impact didn’t do much help.

Then I saw it. There must’ve been something really wrong with them. Taehyung’s eyes were all black with a few black veins around them, making him look extra creepy.

“Fuck this shit, let’s go,” I yanked Jungkook’s arm, wanting to get the hell away from this apartment. There was something wrong with them, and it wasn’t a part of my job to find out what. I was about to babysit them until seven o’clock and leave.

It wasn’t a part of the deal.

“We can’t leave,” Jungkook argued, but I didn’t want to listen.

“We’ll call the police,” I spoke, desperately trying to convince Jungkook to escape this trap. “They’ll send someone here to check up on them,” I added, running to the living room to get my bag. “Let’s go before I drag you out of here.” Maybe my words sounded like a threat, but it successfully made Jungkook move.

“It’s locked,” Jungkook said when he tried to pull the doors open. Though I didn’t lock it after Jungkook’s entrance, the doors wouldn’t budge now. “Do you have a key?”

Trapped inside the apartment, we looked at each other. None of us knew what to do next.

Then, the lights went out.

As if we weren’t already crept out.

“What is the plan?” Jungkook inquired, searching for my hand to hold onto something.

“Stay calm,” I answered, not realizing that quoting the office wasn’t the best idea at the moment. “You try everything to open the doors. Kungfu the shit out of them if you have to,” I ordered, and Jungkook hummed in understanding. “I’ll distract the kids.”

It wasn’t the wisest decision to make, but somebody had to do it. I wasn’t exceptionally proud of myself, but what could a bunch of weird kids do to me?

“Be careful,” Jungkook whispered before I turned on the torch on my phone, looking for the kids around the apartment.

They had to be hiding in one of the rooms. Having taken a confident sigh, I pushed one of the doors open, stepping into Namjoon’s bedroom. The space was spotless, and it was hard to believe it was one of the children’s rooms.

“Game over, Namjoon,” I spoke, urging him to show himself. “You won,” I added, as I kneeled on the carpet to check if he was hiding under the bed. He wasn’t there. “It’s not funny,” I exclaimed, marching towards the closet, anxious about opening it.

It had to be done, though.

Abruptly, I opened the closet, hoping I’d be the first to react if it was indeed Namjoon’s hiding spot. Unfortunately, I wasn’t. Before I managed to prepare myself, Namjoon pushed me, making me painfully fall on my back.

“You little fucker,” I yelled, groaning in pain, earning probably another big ass bruise. “You’re gonna regret that,” I added, unable to control my anger any longer. I was getting easy on them, but it was enough. Now, I’d punch them in the face if I had to.

Namjoon was staring down at me with these creepy black eyes of a demon. His eyes studied my movement, almost as if he was a predator, waiting for the best moment to strike its prey. Then he screeched, jumping right at me in an attempt to bite me.

This time around, however, my reflexes were quicker. Before Namjoon landed on top of me, I rolled to the side, kicking him in his stomach, sending him flying across the room. I couldn’t believe I just did that, but when Namjoon stood up as if nothing happened, I understood I had to go all the way if I wanted to make it out alive.

Quickly, I jumped to my feet, determined to Bruce Lee kick the devil’s spawn into another dimension with my close-to-none self-defense skills. Women in stress could pick up cars, and I had to beat up an eight-year-old.

I could handle it.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Bouncing on my legs like on the ready mode in a fighting game, I stared at my opponent. Namjoon was the first to attack, and I just jumped at the side, not wanting to get bitten. Unfortunately, Namjoon still managed to scratch my arm, drawing blood.

“You’re dead,” I threatened when I saw that he tore the sleeve of my favorite turtleneck. With anger in my eyes, I approached him, throwing punches left and right. My fists collided against Namjoon’s jaw, but no matter how much force I used, it didn’t seem to have any impact on him. He didn’t feel any pain, and it pissed me off.

With a hiss, Namjoon jumped at me, wrapping his hands and arms around my torso. His mouth was dangerously close to my throat, so in a state of complete panic, I started to spin around, trying to shake him off of me.

Now, Namjoon’s room was a complete mess – especially when I walked into a mirror, smashing it into a thousand pieces. Namjoon and I were rolling in the broken glass, earning plenty of tiny cuts across our bodies.

“That’s enough,” I warned him as I spat blood on the carpet. “Say hello to Satan for me, will you?” I added before I pushed him out of the window without any regrets. Namjoon kept screaming, but when his tiny body smashed against the pavement, the peculiar screeching finally stopped. “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker,” I whispered, unable to control myself.

I just killed a kid, and the first thing that came to my mind was quoting Die Hard.

It wasn’t the time for celebration. There were still two children running around the apartment.

Looking around Namjoon’s room, I found a baseball bat. That’ll do, I thought to myself as I stared at my new-found weapon.

“Jungkook!” I shouted.

Once I was in the corridor, I saw the doors. They were open, but Jungkook was out of sight. Did he seriously ditch me here alone? No, it wasn’t possible. Jungkook would never do that.

The boys must’ve done something to him.

One by one, I checked all the rooms, but I found nothing. It almost felt as if I was alone in this creepy apartment.

“Cut the crap, boys,” I hollered, ready to smack anybody in the face with my baseball bat. I was done playing games. I just wanted to go home and wrap myself in blankets in front of a television. “Come out! I don’t have the whole day,” I added, looking around.

I was on high alert. Adrenaline and other hormones were running through my veins, enhancing my senses. Then I heard it – the sound was coming from the staircase. Quickly, I ran out of the apartment, checking the reason behind this commotion.

It was a yellow ball. Somebody must’ve thrown it. Leaning over the railing, I looked up, trying to spot the villain behind this prank. Then I heard giggles. It must’ve been Taehyung.

“Get down here, right now,” I ordered, but the boy didn’t listen. “You’re going to be so dead when I get up there,” I warned, skipping two steps at a time, climbing the stairs.

On the top of the stairs, Taehyung was sitting comfortably, playing with a yo-yo. His face was stretched into a creepy smile, and in all honesty, it gave me chills.

“Get down here,” I repeated myself, but Taehyung didn’t even budge. “Where is Jungkook? What did you do to him?” I asked and received no answer.

Angrily, I walked upstairs, swinging my baseball bat around. Taehyung tried to mess with me with his yo-yo, but I managed to catch the toy and pull it out of his hands.

Like a maniac, I swung the bat, repeatedly hitting Taehyung’s head until it turned into a pulp. Wiping the blood off my face with the back of my hand, I turned around, studying the area. There was one more child out there, and I couldn’t lose my focus just yet.

“Where are you, Jin?” I shouted, waiting for a sign from the boy.

“Here,” Jin whispered, as he emerged from the shadows, pushing me off the stairs.

It was a painful fall, but thankfully, I didn’t break my neck. I felt a pulsating sensation in my left ankle, but besides that, I was fine.

Groaning in pain, I watched Jin slowly descend the stairs. His weird-ass demon eyes were drilling holes in my face, his lips turning into a devilish sneer. Step by step, he made his way downstairs, enjoying the way I tried to crawl away from him. The anticipation was draining me of energy; he was going to murder me, and I could just watch him do it.

“Help!” I shouted though I doubted anyone could hear me. “Somebody call the police!” I carried on but to no avail.

Jin was maybe thirty centimeters away from me, savoring my misery. Slowly, he tilted his head to the side, showing me his teeth, ready to tear me apart.

I had maybe a minute of life left, and I was going to spend it looking into my killer’s eyes.

That was sick.

When Jin was about to jump at me, I heard a noise coming from the apartment.

The scene unfolded in front of my eyes so soon, I couldn’t properly react to it. Right before Jin took a final leap towards me, Jungkook emerged out of the apartment with a fireplace poker, piercing it through Jin’s neck.

Jin’s blood, like a fountain, squirted on me. With my eyes closed, I waited for this moment to end. A few seconds later, I could hear Jin’s dead body collapse to the side.

“Are you okay?” I asked Jungkook, who dropped onto the floor beside me in shock.

“I just killed a kid,” Jungkook whispered, still unable to process what just happened. “When you walked away to look for the kids, I heard a noise in the kitchen. It was Jin, and when I entered, he began throwing shit at me. That motherfucker cut my face,” he added, showing me his fresh wound on his beautiful cheek. “Then, he stabbed my side with the knife and locked me in the closet,” he added, squeezing his side, trying to numb the pain.

“Let’s get the hell away from here,” I spoke, trying to stand up. It was difficult with all my wounds, but I couldn’t stand being inside this building.

CHRISTMAS DAY

We just killed three children.

At first, we had no clue what to do next, but then, I listened to my voice of reason – Jungkook. No matter how bad it looked, we had to go to the police.

Hand in hand, we slowly walked to the nearest police station. People were turning their heads when we were passing by them. I couldn’t blame them. I looked like Carrie with better clothing, while Jungkook seemed to have survived a zombie apocalypse.

When we entered the police station, everybody stared at us. Wobbling, we approached the front desk. “We killed three children,” I admitted, realizing how bad it sounded without the context.

The policeman was shocked. He didn’t witness this kind of thing regularly.

A few minutes later, we were escorted to a questioning room, where we could describe everything in great detail. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to buy our story, thinking we were trying to pull some kind of a prank.

Taking all precautions, they called in an ambulance. We were seriously injured, and we needed some medical care. Though the doctor did a great job, I’d kill to get some better painkillers.

Once our wounds were dressed, the police locked us in custody. We had to wait until a pair of policemen checked the apartment and secure the evidence.

“Merry Christmas, Jungkook,” I whispered as I looked at my wristwatch, realizing it was already past one o’clock. “I know we had different plans, but out of all people, I am glad I was stuck there with you. You saved my life,” I carried on, looking at Jungkook fondly.

“We killed three children,” he replied, still shaken after what had happened. Perhaps, he didn’t need me now, but I really wanted to hug him and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright. Too bad that we were locked in two different cells.

“In self-defense,” I added since Jungkook often seemed to forget that part.

After ten minutes of painful silence, one of the guards walked up to the custody, unlocking our cells. What else did they want to know? We already said everything we knew.

“You’re free to go,” the guard announced, surprising us immensely. “It was an elaborate prank, but don’t ever do that again, or else, we’re going to seriously put you in jail,” he warned, urging us to leave.

“I don’t understand,” I wondered out loud, unable to process what was going on. “I thought you sent your men to check out the crime scene.”

“We did, and the apartment you wanted us to check out was empty. We talked with the landlord, and he said this flat has been vacant for the last year,” the guard explained, making me and Jungkook gasp in shock.

What the fuck was going on?

In complete silence, with our heads hanging low, we exited the police station.

“What now?”

“Let’s just go home and watch Die Hard,” Jungkook whispered, still trying to wrap his head around what had happened inside the apartment. We almost died in there. However, when the police checked it, it was like we had never been there.

My apartment was closer, so we both headed there. Our moves were robotic, our heads were empty. At this point, we just wanted to sit down and keep our minds busy, so we wouldn’t try to analyze what happened back there.

It wasn’t a figment of our imagination. Our wounds were concrete evidence that we were telling the truth. Unfortunately, the police didn’t want to believe us. However, as the saying goes – no body, no crime.

In light of the law, we were innocent.

As soon as we entered my apartment, we sat down on the floor, resting our back against the sofa. Mindlessly, I grabbed the remote and turned Die Hard on Netflix.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I whispered as I interlaced my fingers with Jungkook’s, resting my head on his shoulder. “Or we can just pretend it never happened. Let’s just say we watched a really weird movie or went to a hardcore escape room,” I added, studying Jungkook’s arm tattoos, getting lost in his skin art.

“I’ve known you a few days,” Jungkook started, staring into my eyes. “But I’ve experienced more stress than in my entire life altogether,” he added with a sigh, placing a delicate peck against my neck.

“Actually, my life is pretty boring,” I admitted, though I knew where Jungkook’s words were coming from. I wouldn’t believe myself, either. “It took a 180 on that ice rink,” I reasoned, trying to find a connection.

“You’re beautiful,” Jungkook confessed genuinely, staring at my face with his big sparkly eyes. He was bullshitting me, but I didn’t have enough energy to argue with him. How could I be beautiful? My hair was all sticky due to all the blood which the doctor hadn’t washed off. My skin was covered with cuts and bruises. Even my clothes were ripped. I was certain Jungkook didn’t mean it, but I wasn’t going to admit that.

“You’re beautiful, too,” I beamed, teasing him. “Even after what we’ve been through today, you’re absolutely breathtaking,” I added, and Jungkook looked away, trying to hide his red cheeks. Carefully, I cupped his face, pressing another delicate kiss against his lips.

Just like feathers, our lips moved against each other. No rush, no hastiness, just pure delight.

Though we were both sore and exhausted, we took our time. Maybe it was past three o’clock now, but we didn’t care. I could stay up all night, kissing him like that.

Slowly, Jungkook’s hands found purchase on my hips, carefully pulling me closer on top of his thighs. Gently, I began rubbing my sex against his muscular legs, trying not to make him hiss. His beautiful thighs had already suffered enough damage when Taehyung had bitten him – I didn’t want to inflict any more pain.

“I wish I could fuck you the way I want to,” Jungkook confessed, taking me aback with his filthy words. He was a good soft boy with a heart of gold; how could he talk dirty to me like that? It was out of his calm and collected character, but I absolutely loved it.

“Don’t worry, I think I’m gonna stick around at least until you’re fully recovered,” I answered with a teasing tone as I reached down to his zipper, freeing his semi-hard cock. “Do you have any plans for New Year’s Eve? Or Valentine’s Day?” I questioned, but Jungkook was too busy to answer right away, ripping my tights apart.

“Actually, I do,” Jungkook mentioned with a lopsided smirk upon his face. “I’m gonna be sitting here between your thighs, buried deep inside your pussy. How do you like that?” He asked mischievously, biting my bottom lip before I managed to reply.

“I hope you’re not all talk,” I answered, staring down at his dick. Carefully, I pulled it out of his pants, giving it a few strokes before I raised my hips, slowly sinking down on his length. “Mmm…” I purred, feeling a pleasant stretch.

“I should’ve prepped you,” Jungkook whispered as he felt my walls slowly adjust to his girth.

“Nah, it’s all fine,” I spoke, getting all comfortable on his dick. “There’s always a next time.”

With a languid, stable pace, I rocked my hips back and forth, riding him. Going this slow allowed me to properly feel every inch of him. It was intimate, and I enjoyed it much more than any mindless pounding, which didn’t always get me off. With Jungkook under me, I was in complete control. He was obedient and responsive to my movements, really making it look easy to push me over the edge.

“I’m coming,” I moaned, feeling the approaching orgasm. Jungkook, instead of messing with my tempo, grabbed my hips, helping me maintain my current pace. “Fuck, Jungkook,” I hissed when he gently pushed his cock deeper inside of me, being seconds away from his own release.

“Come around my cock,” Jungkook ordered, and I obeyed his order, falling into a million pieces on top of him, screaming his name. Thankfully, Jungkook’s hands held me in place. Otherwise, I’d once again collapse onto the floor. “Argh,” Jungkook grunted, shooting his load inside of me. “I want to go again,” he added as soon as he calmed down after the powerful orgasm.

“I think it’ll have to wait,” I answered, though I’d love to go another round. “We can try in the morning. Right now, I need a shower,” I added, and Jungkook nodded his head, resting it between my boobs, too lazy to let me go.

He was still balls deep inside of me, and his cum was slowly oozing out of my pussy, but none of us wanted to move. It felt as pleasant as it was nasty, but we didn’t mind.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Jungkook asked innocently, batting his eyelashes in an attempt to woo me. “That would save lots of water,” he added, and I didn’t want to argue with his reasoning.

“Why the hell not? Let’s go before I change my mind,” I spoke, giving him a hand, helping him stand up. “But,” I added, sternly staring at the boy beside me. “Until we’re fully recovered, it’s just a shower.”

“Sure thing.”

[astaroth1357]

Leviathan's Odyssey 7:

Flood

Mammon: Levi!!

*Mammon is the first to leap forward and run across the beach, faster than Lucifer could stop him. His enthusiasm, however, seems to wind down considerably when his brother doesn’t make any move to meet him… and then he retreats back to the others when a massive, serpentine head rises out from the water by the shore. This new beast is not quite as large as the one from before (which likely was Levi himself in some kind of horrific second form) but it could still swallow any one of brothers whole and looks very hungry and eager to do so… particularly when six other heads just like it come up to join the fun*

*Levi stops the clamoring hissing of the monstrous serpent with only the raise of a hand, leaving Lucifer to assume whatever it is, must be completely under his thrall… an impressive feat for a creature that size…*

Levi: This is Lotan. Don't mind him.

*as their formerly missing brother starts his stride across the beach, a growing knot begins to twist in the pit of the eldest’s stomach… The kind of feeling one gets when they’ve realized that they’re out of their element... but they’re up against someone else who very much is. Fighting to keep a composed demeanor, he waits until Levi’s right in front of them before responding*

Lucifer: You look well, Levi... I’m glad. Though I’m surprised you've turned up here of all places...

*Leviathan, maybe amused by the statement, sticks the end of his trident into the ground by his feet before smiling*

Levi: Same goes for you, but this is just my first stop. *he shrugs nonchalantly, glancing all his brothers over until his eyes land on… well, a new face*

Levi: And what’s that thing...?

*Lucifer follows his eyeline to baby Satan, currently peeking his blonde head out from the safety of his shirt. He had almost forgotten he was still holding him...*

Lucifer: Oh, well… I suppose this is your new brother…

Levi: You stole a kid??

Lucifer: Well, no. He’s uh... it’s complicated.

*Levi looks a tad confused but leans down to get a better look at the boy. Again, much to Lucifer’s surprise, their seemingly fearless child attempts to hide his face back into the fabric…*

Levi: Huh. Looks like your guppy’s shy. *he flashes yet another shark-toothed grin… where he had developed such a maw is a mystery to Lucifer… None of his brothers' teeth get that sharp*

Lucifer: He’s not usually… *one of his hands instinctively goes to shield Satan’s head. A part of him hopes that it’s only Levi’s appearance that he finds scary… but a greater part of him fears there’s more to it than that…*

*it doesn’t take Levi long to look past Satan and back to the others, all of whom are still grappling somewhere between a state of shock and guilt*

Levi: Well. I’m happy you all found each other. Up here... *they watch for a moment as his slitted eyes narrow slightly...*

Levi: ...without me.

*Mammon is again the first to step forward, putting a hand over his own chest*

Mammon: I looked for ya when we-

*he could continue but Levi cuts him off with a sudden spike in volume, picking his trident back up from the sand*

Levi: -and just look at the house you got! *he lifts the weapon over to the Demon Lord’s villa, sitting perched on a scenic hill above the beach* Doesn’t it look just… nice?

*the twisting in Lucifer’s gut is only getting worse… he doesn’t like where this is going…*

Lucifer: The house isn't ours, Leviathan… We’re borrowing it. We live somewhere farther inland...

*the way that Levi’s eyebrows raise only further cement his fears… For a moment, he swears he sees something flash in his eyes but it's gone too fast to identify it…*

Levi: So that means you have two then?

*they all watch in confusion as he bends down to scoop some sand between his fingers…  letting the white grains slip slowly from his grasp*

Lucifer: Two…? Two what?

Levi: Two territories. On dry land. *Levi watches the sand pour to the ground, seemingly mesmerized by how it falls, before returning back to his brothers*

Levi: I bet that really must be nice. Really… really nice. *Lucifer sees the look in his eye change again, but this time the darkness lingers… radiating what he can only describe as pure malice and envy*

Levi: But that doesn’t surprise me. You guys have always had it better than I have…

Mammon: Huh..? *Mammon raises an eyebrow, apparently blindsided by his comment* What the hell are ya talkin about, Levi?

*Lucifer can’t help but shoot a look at him, even for the innocent question. There’s something very different about the Levi before them right now… They shouldn’t risk giving him ammunition. Unfortunately, Levi’s eyes only narrow again but this time into deadly thin slits*

Levi: What am I talking about? Isn’t it obvious?? Or are you still just as dumb as ever, Mammon? *Levi sweeps his trident out to the side, baring his pointed teeth in a silent snarl*

Levi: All of you had it so much better in the Celestial Realm than I did! Mr. “Always Perfect” Lucifer and his stupid little lapdog, Mammon! Oh how everybody looked up to you! *he jerks his trident towards a frightened Asmodeus, the anger in his eyes only intensifying*

Levi: And then there’s you! Always sneaking out to parties and sleeping who knows where, but were you ever cast out for it?? No! Because you’d always go crying to Lucifer to get your way!!

Lucifer: That’s enough, Levi-!

*Leviathan’s tail lashes the beach sand, kicking up a cloud of white behind him and they hear the low hiss of the seven-headed beast still very much watching them…*

Levi: Shut up! I’m not done!! *his trident next jerks towards Beel and Belphie, the older of whom currently pushing the younger behind his back defensively*

Levi: And then there’s you two! Who could ever get enough of hearing how everybody loved the twins?? “Did you see what Beel did today?” “Hasn’t he gotten so big?” “He’s a shoe-in for seraphim for sure!” And if you had just stayed in your goddamn place, Belphie, then NONE OF US WOULD EVEN BE HERE RIGHT NOW!!!

Lucifer: LEVIATHAN, I SAID ENOUGH!! *Lucifer’s beach clothes quickly evaporate as they get replaced by his demon form, black wings towering high above his head, but Levi remains undaunted*

Levi: AND I TOLD YOU TO SHUT!! UP!!!

*the sky above them darkens as growing clouds bloat out the artificial sun, the sheer intensity of Levi’s rage apparently beginning to disturb the sea around them. The waves suddenly start getting choppy, bubbling up and crashing into each other furiously...*

*for a moment, Lucifer is astounded how Levi’s emotions alone could have such an effect on the currents, but that’s only until he looks a little closer… It’s no current or wind changing the waters, it's a horde of creatures struggling for space above the water’s surface: tails, fins, tentacles, and heads of all shapes and sizes breaching the formally calm seas to make their presence known. In a matter of moments, they find themselves outnumbered not by the tens or hundreds, but by the thousands… An ocean’s worth of monsters calling for their blood from across the shore…*

*as the brothers realize what they must be seeing, a collective horror casts over them… Levi himself takes a few deep breaths and raises his trident back to the army, quieting his troops once more, but they remain near the surface to watch for his orders. Dormant, but far from absent in their conflict… A tense silence hangs in the air but Lucifer is the first to break it with a quiet, harsh whisper*

Lucifer: Leviathan… What is the meaning of this? What are these things and why are you here?

*Levi slowly lowers his trident and glares back at his brother with a look that’s not smug, nor boastful. It holds nothing but anger and contempt for him and seemingly everyone around him...*

Levi: Shouldn’t it be obvious, Lucifer? I’m still a general, aren’t I? So what if my men look a little different now... *he digs the end of his trident into the sand, keeping his head aloft in a way Lucifer had only seen him do on the battlefield*

Levi: I want better land. I’m here for more territory and I’m starting with this beach. *though his voice is assured and commanding, Lucifer narrows his eyes at him just as Levi had done before*

Lucifer: No. I can’t let you do that. *Levi, of course, doesn’t back down for a second*

Levi: Well, too bad it wasn’t a request.

Lucifer: This beach and the land it’s attached to are all property of the Devildom and its ruler, Lord Diavolo. I cannot and will not just let you take it. *Lucifer’s words actually seem to give Levi a pause for thought, but more out of surprise than anything*

Levi: Wait, did you just say “Lord” Diavolo…? *he thinks for a moment before a smile finally comes back to his face, though this time with an air of mockery* Did you just call the Prince by his title? Don’t tell me you’re his lackey now, are you…??

*Lucifer, to his credit, doesn’t flinch or look away… but he doesn’t look particularly happy either*

Lucifer: I remain my own man, as I’ve always been… But I owe my loyalty to the Prince and I will oversee his interests as I see fit. *it seems regardless of his answer, Leviathan still snorts at him*

Levi: So you are!! And here I thought I’d never see you take a knee to a demon! Just how low have you sunk now, huh? *Lucifer opens his mouth to respond, but Mammon beats him to the punch*

Mammon: Would it kill ya to just shut up already, Levi?? We ain’t just gonna let ya take what you want! *despite his brother’s outburst, Levi only continues to look amused*

Levi: And you really think you can stop me?

*he raises his trident once more and an unearthly chorus is sung from the waves, a deadly hum of hissing and growls emitting from his waiting “soldiers,” itching to attack on his say so. Many most likely already having the reach or capability to pluck the other demons from the sands where they stand*

Levi: … you and what army?

*Mammon’s silence appears to be his answer as he glances anxiously to Lucifer… the rest of his brothers doing the same. In times like these, they all turn to the eldest to come up with a plan, but it seems that this time, Lucifer finds himself with limited options… He takes a moment to study his family’s faces - then the savage crowd of beasts surrounding them - with an expression that’s near unreadable…*

Lucifer: … I can call Lord Diavolo from here. What are your demands?

*there’s a sharp intake of breath from his brothers, not a one expecting him seemingly to back down so quickly*

Mammon: What?!

Asmo: Lucifer?? You can’t be serious!! *though his brothers are stunned, Lucifer doesn’t take his eyes off of Levi while still maintaining his stoic expression*

Lucifer: If this is the bed he wants to lie in, then so be it… 

*he and Levi glare at each other momentarily, before the other finally says something in response*

Levi: Tell your prince that I’ll start flooding Devildom within the next twenty minutes… If he hands over his territory willingly, then I’ll let him evacuate anyone living on it. Otherwise, it makes no difference to me.

Lucifer: If that’s really what you want… But Levi? *Lucifer waits until he has his full attention to make his point clear… His expression may have even softened some… Is it with worry? Maybe even disappointment?* 

Lucifer: Don’t do anything you may regret…

*Leviathan looks at him for a few seconds more, before turning his back to them entirely*

Levi: … You have my demands, don’t you? *as he starts to walk away, Lucifer says something else just barely loud enough for him to hear*

Lucifer: You’ve changed… Leviathan.

*for a split second, Levi’s steps falter… but he doesn’t stop nor turn back to respond*

Levi: I’m just who I need to be… Lucifer.

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

[spaced-out-imagines]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice (a Gojou Satoru x reader oneshot)

This is my contribution to the Ho-Ho-Hoes Christmas Collab! Please check out the other fics, I assure you they’re great!

Warnings: none!

If you like my stuff you can buy me a ko-fi here!

The smell of cinnamon and spices filled your kitchen as a batch of cookies baked in the oven. Taking out some new bowls from a nearby cupboard, you placed them on the counter beside the icing ingredients already laid out. As you began to measure out the sugar needed, you hummed to a random Christmas song that was playing on a speaker nearby. 

You were so focused on your task in fact that you didn’t hear the sound of the front door of your house opening and closing. Once you had finished measuring the sugar, you placed the bag to the side and reached for the milk. However, before you could move a pair of arms snaked around your waist. Startled, your hand shot out to the side, about to activate your cursed technique. But right as you did this you recognized the cursed energy behind you. 

Relaxing, you sighed. “Satoru. You know better than to come up behind me without warning,” you said. Instead of attacking the man behind you, your outstretched hand simply reached for the nearby measuring cup instead. Pouring the milk into it, the liquid rose until it met the exact amount required. 

Your idiot husband only grinned. “Aw come on mochi, you know you love my surprise hugs,” he poked your right cheek, “and such a cold greeting. I thought you would be happy to see me after a long day of work.”

“It’s not as if I don’t like seeing you. I would just prefer it if I didn’t accidentally skewer you by accident,” you replied, the sentence dripping with sarcasm. After slowly pouring some of the milk into the sugar bowl, you mixed the two together with a whisk. The combination began to take a smoother texture as more milk was added, slowly becoming a pipeable icing.

Gojou kissed you on the cheek lightly. “You have way too much control over your power to accidentally hurt me and you know that,” he said. He continued to watch what you were doing over your shoulder. As he leaned down to rest his face in the crook of your neck, he hummed curiously. “Gingerbread cookies? Is it a special occasion or something?” One of his hands left your waist to dip a finger in the icing. You simply slapped the hand away, ignoring his subsequent whine and pout. 

“Not particularly. I just thought it would be a good treat for our students. Especially considering we’re in the middle of the Christmas season.” After you gave the icing a few more stirs, you nodded in satisfaction at your work. You then placed the whisk into the bowl carefully so it wouldn’t accidentally fall in. Turning around in Gojou’s arms, you were met with the grinning face of your blindfolded husband.

Gojou leaned down and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “Are there any extras for me?”

“No, our students work much harder than you Mr. I get souvenirs instead of helping my student.”

“Pumpkiiiiiiin,” he whined. Burying his face in your hair, he squeezed you tighter. “You know you can’t deny me of sweets. When did you become so cruel.” Gojou reached up and pulled his blindfold down so it sat around his neck. Looking into your (e/c) eyes with his own ocean blue ones, he pouted like a sad puppy dog. 

Rolling your eyes, you fought the growing smile that was creeping onto your face. “Oh stop being so dramatic. Of course I’ll set aside a few for you. I factored in your ridiculous sweet tooth when I was deciding on how many to make,” you told him. Slowly reaching up, you ran a hand through his bright-white hair. Leaning into your touch, Gojou closed his eyes briefly and hummed in delight. 

As he opened his eyes, he turned his head slightly and kissed the palm of your hand. Never breaking eye contact while he did. “Thank you honey~ I have such a sweet spouse.” A mischievous smirk spread across his lips a moment later. “But I know how I can make you even sweeter.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him suspiciously. “Satoru, wha-” You were cut off as he slathered some icing on your lips using his finger. While you were talking, he had sneakily managed to steal some from the bowl behind you. A surprised yelp escaped from your throat and you looked at him incredulously. “Sato-”

Gojou interrupted you once more as he captured your lips with his own. A small whimper escaped from you as your mouths moved in sync. Opening his mouth slightly, he licked the icing off your soft lips. Your face grew warm as he only intensified the kiss. Gojou bit your bottom lip lightly before soothing it with another flick of his tongue. The kiss lasted a few more seconds before he backed away, leaving you breathless. Humming in satisfaction, he grinned at you. “Sweet~”

A bright blush had spread across your visage at his actions. Flustered, you buried your face in his shirt. “Satoru that’s not fair…” you couldn’t help but whine.

“You can’t blame me cupcake, you’re just too tempting for me to resist.”

“You’re not allowed to be in here anymore. You’re too distracting and will just keep stealing bites of the cookies and icing.”

“Aw, but I want to help my little kikufuku. You work too hard you know.”

“Who do you think I’m picking up the slack for?!”

[nikethestatue]

Meet Me in the Silence

Elriel Month - Day 5

 Continuation of ‘Forbidden’

Honestly, tooth-rotting fluff, some Nyx, stabbing Cassian with fork, Azriel singing and relationship stuff

Azriel loved Nyx. He didn’t love him because Nyx was cute and pudgy, or because he was his nephew, or because he was a fun, if demanding baby, and not even because spending time with him was a private relief for Azriel. A time to let go, a time where he could spend rolling around on the carpet, helping Nyx with blocks, rattles and the construction of pillow forts, watching Nyx sneeze little whiffs of starry night.

Nyx, unbenounced to him, showed Azriel some truths that Azriel couldn’t face before. The thing with Nyx was that he was a baby and he didn’t care—he didn’t care about Azriel’s scars and his ugly hands, he didn’t care about Azriel’s cruel ways, or the services that he provided to the High Lord. Nyx didn’t care about how many people fell under Truth-Teller’s deadly edge, or what Azriel had to do on the battlefields or during the Blood Rite. Nyx didn’t judge. As an infant, he wanted the same thing from Azriel as he wanted from everyone—warmth and comfort, kindness and love. He wanted to be rocked to sleep, fed, changed and played with. He didn’t care that the bottle was held by the same hand that tortured the Night Court’s enemies, or that the man who held him to his chest did some unforgivable things in his life.

As the last nine months rolled by, Azriel had to do some re-evaluations of his life. He had time on his hand, to be sure. Instead of courting Elain, like he wanted to, he thought. There was nothing much else left for him to do.

He thought that perhaps, despite his internal denials, Elain was much like Nyx—she accepted Azriel for what he was. Scars and all. Her acceptance did not stem from naiveite, though, but love. The realization hit Azriel like a sledgehammer. He crawled towards it, slowly, but surely, rethinking every touch and every smile, recalling every smirk and sparkle of the caramel-brown eyes, all the jokes and jabs, and gentle touches and finger brushes. Recalled the worry on Elain’s face when she knew that he went on his missions—even if they weren’t particularly dangerous. The pain that was etched on her features, when he returned in a particularly foul mood, and she knew that it was because he did things that marred his soul. He remembered her casually handing him a whiskey, which he’d gulped down in one go. Or a cup of tea, with honey and lemon, just like he liked. The gooey caramel cakes that she made—they were his favourite—and they began making a frequent appearance on the dessert menu. The past nine months of their forbidden love—is that what it was?—were the time when Azriel finally felt loved. For the first time in his life. Mor never really loved him, not like he needed to be loved. His brothers—well, they were his brothers, so that was that. Elain loved him. Of that, he was now certain. Elain loved him without touching. Without kissing. Without romance. Without courtship. Without gifts or presents or flowers. Without promises. Without expectations. It’s like she couldn’t help herself, even if she tried. She needed to love him, as much as he needed to be loved by her. All her tiny gestures of comfort and care created a glittering mosaic of love and devotion, which he only now began to piece together. And it pained him that she was not free to express herself as she wanted to, because loving him came with a hefty, unreasonable price.

For her, he’d fight. For her, he’d be the person she deserved. When she began choosing him, it was the first time in his life when someone actively chose him, despite all his shortcoming. And he wanted her to continue choosing him, every day, making the decision to love him.

Azriel had a lot of time to think about it, in silence.

 Azriel was a good cook. One of his may hidden talents. He spent much of his time alone, or in places that were foreign and unfamiliar, or in the army, and necessity being the mother of invention, he had to learn how to cook. And then, he became quite good at it. He had to draw the line at baking, but he could make a steak like nobody’s business, and eggs every way were his specialty. Tonight though, he was tired and distracted. It was the first time in a very, very long time when he and Elain were alone, so he didn’t particularly want to waste it on cooking. What’s more, with Nyx being the raging little monster that he was today, Azriel wanted to put the kid to bed as soon as possible and just relax. For a meticulous planner, tonight, he had no plans at all…and it both excited and frightened him, because it would just be the two of them and they’ll have to figure it out.

“Breakfast for dinner?” he offered, while Elain set Nyx’s food in front of him. He was too quick for her and immediately jammed his whole fist into the vegetable mash, soliciting a groan from her, as he began licking his palm and fingers with gusto.

“Whatever you want to make,” she agreed, as she began wiping the mess that Nyx made, while Azriel smirked, shaking his head. He tossed two slices of ham in the skillet, and allowed it to crisp up and caramelize.

He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her hair. She smiled, momentarily lost in the sensation of closeness and comfort that he always offered her, so effortlessly too.

“You know,” warned Azriel, using his ‘stern’ voice, looking at Nyx, “for your behavior, you should be sent to an Illyrian training camp. Just so you know what’s what. There, there won’t be 10 people looking for Brute for you, or uncle Cassian swimming with you in the pool, or Elain feeding you lemon cakes, or aunt Nesta reading to you the same book over, and over, and over, and over again. No aunt Mor taking you on a pony, and no Varian building sandcastles with you, only to watch you destroy them.”

Elain, tucked against his chest, was laughing. Especially because Nyx was glaring at Aziel unhappily and suspiciously.

Then, she said, softly, almost to herself, “I am happy that he is happy. That we can give him the childhood that none of us had. Let him be a little bit spoilt, because he is so loved.”

There was longing in her tone. Longing for something that she probably desired for herself. Those conversations have never been had between the two of them. Gods, they’ve never even been together in public, let alone had conversations about the future, and a future that included children. It was never something Azriel even thought of, considering his ‘luck’ in love, and his line of work. But he heard her. So he gave her a little kiss on the cheek and returned to his cooking.

Elain was feeding Nyx the last of his food, when Azriel placed two plates on the table, and poured both of them a glass of ale.

“Beer with breakfast,” she giggled. “I like the way you think, shadowsinger.”

He laughed, loving how easy it all was. How easy the banter came, how relaxed they were together, how there were no pressures at all when it was just the two of them. Well, three.

“Alright, you’ve taken enough of everybody’s time today,” he decided, as he fished Nyx out of the highchair and went to wash his face and hands again. Elain remained seated, watching the two of them, with her chin propped on her hand.

Was it normal to be that enamoured with a man? When he did mundane things? She had to admit—Azriel was indescribably beautiful. That alone would attract anyone. The gargantuan wings, ticked tightly, but not tensely against his back didn’t hurt either. The span of his enormous shoulders, the movement of those thick muscles around the arms, over his back, which moved and bulged as he wrestled with Nyx, who was refusing to get his hands washed, were mesmerizing. She knew that she shouldn’t be so dazzled by his looks, but she couldn’t help herself. But it was more than just admiring the elegant cut of his body, the well-fitted trousers that did very nice things to his thighs and his long legs, or the enticing forearms that were exposed from his haphazardly rolled up sleeves. The tattoos, in fact, snaked lower than she anticipated. She’d never seen him undressed—Cassian, strong, beefy and powerful, and the leaner, thinner Rhysand—plenty of times. But not Azriel. He’s been annoyingly timid. All three were tattooed, but apparently, Azriel’s reached all the way to his scars. She smiled to herself, amazed and bemused. Who would’ve thought that she, Elain, would be so attracted to a winged and tattooed male? What a far cry from the ordinary, plain Greyson.

Azriel plopped Nyx down on the floor, tossed him Brute and some toys and then quickly threw a shield around them, so Nyx was contained and didn’t attempt to wander from the kitchen.

“You should’ve started,” he nodded to her untouched plate, as he sat down.

“Not without you,” she said. “Looks very good!”

“I try,” he said bashfully and they tucked into to the scrambled eggs, ham and vegetables.

“Oh, gods, it’s really good,” she almost moaned.

“Baby, it’s just eggs,” he reminded her, secretly very pleased with her reaction.

“Well, baby likes them!” she giggled, cutting into the ham. Azriel watched her, watched the movement of her hands and she asked, “What?”

He chuckled and said, sipping his ale,

“I recall when you were planning to kill Cassian with a fork.”

Her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Oh, you don’t remember?” he was laughing softly.

“I don’t think it’s even possible to kill Cassian,” she noted.

“I’d agree. But you were ready and eager.”

“When was I planning to kill Cassian?” she demanded.

“First time we met—at dinner. I remember Nesta…well, being Nesta. And Cassian—Mother save me, the moment he had her eyes on her, he was just dripping with this hideous arousal,”

Elain almost choked, eyes wide.

“What?”

“It was horrible,” he gave an exaggerated shudder. “Rhys and I were traumatized. Those two were going at it, as usual, fighting, sniping…whatever they do, and all we could smell was him getting hotter and hotter. That dinner,” he shook his head at the memory. “It was something else.”

She was laughing, nodding.

“And you?” she asked, at last.

He gave her a long thoughtful look. A tender, loving look that made her throat bob, and suddenly she was hot…much like Cassian.

“Honestly?” he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off her.

“Yes.”

“I thought that I saw the most human and the most beautiful girl in the world. Utterly unattainable. Engaged to another man. But surprisingly unafraid of us,”

“I was very afraid of you!” she argued. Azriel smiled.

“You three were huge!” she cried. “With these enormous wings,”

He raised his brow suggestively and she smacked his arm,

“Oh, shut up,”

“I didn’t even say anything,” he shrugged, “but please, tell me more about our huge wings, and our generally superior size,”

“I am not telling you anything,” she snapped, her cheeks red, and he was delighted.

“But you do admit that you tried to kill Cassian?”

“I didn’t try to kill him. Just defend myself, if there was need,”

“Pretty sure Nesta would’ve unmanned him with her bare hands,”

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

“And me?” he pressed, “you didn’t want to stab me with a fork?”

She gave him a cool look of nonchalance and recalled,

“You suddenly turned into a poet!”

“Did I?” it was his turn to be confused.

“Something about hearing the wind song, or something,”

“I don’t even remember that,” he confessed, a slow blush spreading over his cheeks.

“I do. I guess we remember different things about that evening.” She glanced at him from under her lashes and added, “I just remember thinking that you were the most handsome man—male—I’d ever seen. I didn’t even think that people could be that beautiful,”

Azriel’s blush deepened and Elain secretly enjoyed watching him squirm a little. She was well aware of the fact that he was always uncomfortable when people mentioned his appearance. He knew that he was handsome, almost unnaturally so, but whatever horrible words and deeds he’d experienced in his childhood warped his perception of himself. At times, she wanted to assure him that no one paid much attention to his hands…she certainly didn’t. She always found his hands, the scars on them just as attractive as the rest of him. They were simply a part of him, just as his beauty was. But he struggled. She knew it.

And as she always did, when she wanted to reassure him, she took his hand and brought it to her lips. He stilled. She kissed. Kissed the inside and outside of his palm. Watched him. Watched him tense, but not pull away his hand. Kissed each long, strong finger. Kissed the rough skin. Kissed the pain and the doubt. Not away, but at least temporarily.

Bored and tired, Nyx fell asleep on the floor, sprawled on the rug, clutching Brute.

“We have to take him upstairs,” muttered Elain, releasing Azriel’s hand.

She didn’t know how to deal with the intimacy of their relationship. Her feelings were raw and exposed, and she was painfully aware of her own inexperience. She didn’t know how to be seductive. Had no idea how to play games—wasn’t really looking to learn either. But she wasn’t dazzling or mysterious, and had no inkling of what Azriel expected, of what he wanted. He was so unbearably difficult to read, while she was stupidly, obviously in love with him. She was the Cassian to his Nesta. She was the one dripping with arousal, unable to stifle her need, or dampen her desire. He probably saw her as the fool that she was.

Frustrated, she made to get up from the table, but he caught her wrist and clasped it gently, as always reigning in his terrifying strength.

“Come here,” he murmured and pulled her to him, until she settled on his lap, feeling both awkward and happy. “Lainey,”

“I like baby,” she blurted.

He nodded, and said, “Baby, you don’t need to pretend with me…I…” he swallowed, thinking how to continue. “You might be surprised, but it’s new for me as well. I’ve had,” ugh, he really didn’t want to discuss his past lovers with her, not right now. “I am not inexperienced,” he said diplomatically. No, he wasn’t. “But this,” and he waved his hand between them, “this is new for me as well. I’ve never felt this much…for anyone. Ever,”

“What becomes of us, Az?” she asked softly.

“Whatever you want,” he stated simply.

“But,”

He shrugged, “there will always be obstacles,”

“Rhysand is more than just an ‘obstacle,’” she reminded him.

“Rhysand, frankly, can go and fuck himself,” Azriel said flatly.

The new, Fae Elain wasn’t scandalized by the coarse language. The three brothers, Nesta and Mor cursed like sailors, and Elain found herself throwing an occasional ‘shit’ and ‘dick’ in her speech. So it made her smile when the usually controlled, polite Azriel unleashed his mouth.

“He is your High Lord,” she reminded him.

“He is technically everyone’s High Lord, but it doesn’t mean that he gets free reign on doing whatever he wants. If I am not asking him to give up Feyre—remember how he snuck her out from Tamlin’s clutches—then he doesn’t get to tell us what we ought to do.”

The thing that he’s been carrying in his pocket was burning through him, a constant reminder. He shifted and then looked straight at her and tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. For someone who didn’t crave or enjoy touch, the desire to touch her was constant. He didn’t even need anything sexual at this point, but feeling her skin against him, in whatever way, was beyond satisfying.

“Did you promise him anything?” she inquired, moving even closer to him, loving the heavy warmth of his arms around her.

“Absolutely not!” he spat. “He is completely overstepping, and I’ve been humouring him up until now, but it seems to be that he is a little too comfortable with the status quo,” he looked at her, his voice grave, “I hope you didn’t promise him anything either?”

She shook her head,

“No. I didn’t say anything.”

A whoosh of breath escaped him. “Thank the Cauldron.”

Elain stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers and said, sharply this time, “Everything’s been taken away from me once already. I wasn’t prepared to give you up. You are the only thing that I want, and Rhysand wasn’t going to take that away from me. From us…” she glanced at him, “if you feel the same…”

“Do you need to ask?”

She smiled.

Azriel exhaled deeply and then cupped her face between his hands. He was going to do it. He needed to do it. She devoured his gaze, the look of intent in his forest-green golden eyes, the determined set of his jaw. He left her, once, waiting…Waiting for him to take the next step, waiting for him to act and he didn’t. Not today.

“Elain,” he swallowed audibly, and she felt that he was nervous. “Will you permit me to court you?”

Azriel wanted to do this properly. Elain deserved it—deserved to be treated with kindness and respect, but he deserved it as well—he wanted to do what so many others took for granted. It never came naturally to him, the normal things, and for once, despite everything, he was going to make this one thing happen.

Nyx moved on the floor, woke up and let out a scream. Confused, he looked around and began babbling tearfully ‘ma, ma, ma’.

Elain slipped off his lap and gently cooed “Shhhh, come…come, my sweet boy,” and picked him up. Azriel watched them, not even upset at the interruption.

Nyx was crying in earnest now, and not even Brute was enough to console him.

“I am going to try to put him to bed,” she whispered, rocking the baby against her chest.

Azriel opened his arms and said, “hand him over.”

“But,”

He carefully took Nyx from her and the move did not result in silence or calm, and Nyx cried just as sadly, looking for his mom. As Azriel made his way down the hall and towards the stairway, with Elain trailing him, he began to sing. In a language that Elain did not know, but understood innately to be Illyrian. The way the sounds rolled off Azriel’s tongue was natural, the melody lulling and sweet. His voice was soothing and pleasant, with a gravelly note that came from the back of his throat. Nyx stilled, blinking at him. As they slowly went up the stairs, Azriel rocked and cuddled Nyx, stretching his wings so they covered them in a dark canopy, the words of the lullaby muffled, but just as beautiful. Elain wished that it didn’t end…There were just a words that she picked up ‘warrior’ and ‘sleep’—something she learned from Cassian, who was teaching Nesta some Illyrain phrases, now that they spent a decent amount of time in their Illyrian bungalow.

In Nyx’s nursery, Azriel put the baby down in the crib and covered him with a blanket, rocking the crib lightly, as he continued his song, quieter now, seeing that Nyx’s eyelids drooped.

Wordlessly, he lifted his arm and Elain slipped to his side, and wrapped her arm around his torso. They never needed words.

Sleep, warrior heart

Sleep and know that you are loved

Sleep, warrior heart and meet me in silence

Find dreams and peaceful slumber, my little warrior heart

 Azriel quietly translated the song, without her prompting. He knew that she’d want to know what the words meant. He, however, did not explain the history of the song and where and how he’d learned it.

“Yes.”

He looked down at her, a silent question on his face.

“The answer is ‘yes’,” she repeated. “You may court me.”

“Thank you,” was all he said.

They left the nursery and stopped in the hallway.

He put his hand on the back of her neck and stroked.

“Then I’d like for you to have this,” he said at last. He took something from his pocket and laid it in her palm. It was a key.

“We will have to meet in silence.”

[knchins]

The Sacrificial Lamb - Chisaki Kai

Summary: The Vampire Chisaki has been searching everywhere for the one, but when he finally finds her she is taken by the League of Villains. He strikes a deal with them in order to get her back.

Pairing: Vampire!Overhaul x Fem!Human!Reader

Rating: E+

Word Count: 6.7k

Server Collab: BNHAREM - Fantasy AU

Warnings: Virgin/Virginity Kink, Blood, Extreme Dubcon, Mysophobia, Kidnapping, Implied Sexual Slavery, Noncon Choking, Biting, Pelvic Examination, Virginity Testing, Mentioned Necrophilia, Marking, Bondage/Restraints, Hair Pulling, Condom Usage, Overstimulation, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Mild Aftercare

Notes: Please heed the warnings listed above. I classify this as a dark fic and want readers to take care while reading. <3 My first ever collab with this server and I’m super hype about it! I hope you enjoy!

All over the world, over the past few decades, vampirism had spread across the land like a rampant disease. Once mortal humans were turned into eternal monsters with powers unique only to their kind. The media tended to call them quirks, hoping that a lighthearted term would quell the fear of what the gifts truly were. An abomination, a curse among mankind, and weapons of mass destruction. 

Of course, there were a select few (really, a rare few these days) that used their vampirism for good. They fed only on donated blood, vowed never to take human life, and even protected mortals against others of their kind that were not as righteous as they were. Truly it was a world made up of heroes, villains, and powerless bystanders that were often victims. 

In relation to eternity, Chisaki Kai was rather young. He had only spent his life as a gifted fanged menace for about two decades now, but that didn’t make things any easier. Chisaki has had mysophobia for as long as he could remember. It plagued him as a human long before he was turned by the former leader of the Shie Hassaikai. 

Vampirism had always been nothing but a curse to him. While it was true that his quirk was extremely powerful and was capable of great destruction, the fact that he had to drink blood in order to survive was pure hell. The only blood he could bring himself to consume was that of young virgins, those who had never been tainted with drugs, alcohol, or even sex. 

Members of Shie Hassaikai would kidnap victims for him, but Kai would never feed on them outright. No, touching their commoner skin with his mouth just seemed completely out of the question. He very rarely sank his teeth into anyone. Instead he’d keep them captive, draining a few pints every few weeks until eventually bleeding them dry when he grew bored of them. 

The blood would be stored and consumed as needed by their leader, a small portion of it would be meshed with grapes and fermented into wine. A delicacy that many vampires enjoyed and was graded on both the source and taste. Naturally he only drank that of the highest grade as that ensured there were few (if any) impurities. 

The issue Chisaki was starting to face however was that his food source was dwindling. In this day and age it was difficult to find people that haven't spent time poisoning their bodies. Everyone seemed to enjoy living in filth and he really just did not understand. He was half tempted to start breeding his own livestock to drain, but that would just be too costly at this point. The organization was struggling to get back on top, and while he was a fearsome and ruthless leader, there were still connections that needed to be made. 

As of now he had a...tentative (but tumultuous) relationship with a group of vampires that liked to call themselves the League of Villains. The leader, Shigaraki Tomura, wanted to be equal to Kai however Kai felt that he was equal to no one. He was above all of them, his power to destroy or create on a whim was better than anyone quirk that the league could offer. Negotiations were still being made and every time they took one step forward, they seemed to take two steps back. 

Shigaraki was about the same age as he was and he too was capable of mass destruction. If the two worked together, they could bring down all of Tokyo with ease. Perhaps this would help with Chisaki’s lack of food situation. With the entire city under his thumb he could easily create some sort of facility to house and breed the purest of humans. He’d no longer have to limit himself as he did now. 

Presently he was waiting to hear back from his most faithful underling and assistant, Kurono. He was out looking for what would be Chisaki’s next meal, though it had been a few hours since he departed. When his phone began to chime, he half expected to hear that he had been unsuccessful in finding someone to suit his boss’s tastes. However, it was quite the opposite. 

“I have found a girl you would no doubt enjoy.” Kurono said in a cold tone that portrayed no noticeable emotion. “However, there is a situation.” 

Chisaki was almost always cool headed. He very rarely lost his temper, though when he did it could be quite murderous. “What is it?” He asked monotonously. 

“The League of Villains has taken her for themselves.” He said, and while true he could just find someone else. He had a feeling that his boss would particularly love the sweet little thing he had found. “I believe she may be the one.” 

The One. Chisaki had been searching high and low for a delicate creature to treat as his live in blood source. One that he would control one hundred percent. What she ate, what she wore, when she slept. He had so many plans for this one woman, if she were to ever be found. Hearing that Kurono may have found the one and had lost her to none other than that foul Shigaraki was almost enough to boil his black blood. Almost. 

“She’s pure?” He asked cryptically, though he knew that if she had been selected already then Kurono had already vetted that information himself. He heard his subordinate give him a quick affirmative. Chisaki let his thoughts process for a moment longer, “come back. I will call Tomura and see what he has to say for himself.” 

Clearly this was a ploy to get Chisaki to formally align with him. That much was obvious. However without seeing the girl first it may as well be pointless. He’d need to look over her with a fine toothed comb to determine whether or not she was indeed the one he could make his blood bride or not. A human companion for him to divulge in at any time. If Kurono knew him as well as the thought he did, then he would be correct in thinking that she was special enough to keep around. 

He ended the call with Kurono and looked for the number he had for the league of villains. He pressed it, letting the phone dial the numbers itself before waiting for an answer. A moment later, an annoying but familiar voice cut in. “Overhaul. I was wondering when you’d call.” There was clear devious intent that made Chisaki question again what he could possibly be up to. “I have something I think you’ll just love to sink your teeth into.” 

Kai didn’t appreciate the joke. Shigaraki knew very well that Kai didn’t drink directly from humans. He drank blood through plastic straws because he didn’t even want his lips to touch it unless he wanted to break out in hives. “What do you want for her?” Kai asked, getting straight to the point. “I have plenty that you could have.” 

It was true. Shigaraiki needed to bolster his numbers and with Kai’s help then he could easily achieve that goal.All he needed to supersede the arduous negotiations between them was a little leverage. Leverage Tomura now had in his possession. “You know what I want, Chisaki.” Shigaraki said in the smug voice that grated the yakuza leader’s last nerve. 

But what Shigaraki wanted most was to have Chisaki and his gang of men to work under him. To have control over the small legion of vampires that was ruled by Chisaki’s hand. Of course, Kai could always agree to the negotiation and cut ties as soon as he had what he wanted (if she was indeed the one). Though there was no telling for sure of that now. 

“I’ll need to inspect her first. Bring her to the compound for a thorough examination.” He instructed hoping that Shigaraki would at least agree to that. “Do not touch her with those filthy hands of yours until then. If you defile her then the deal will be off.” 

Shigaraki tutted into the receiver of the phone, “So picky. You want to see this little wallflower so badly? Alright, I’ll bring her in an hour. Be ready for us then, would you? Maybe have some of the delicious blood wine of yours ready to celebrate our long awaited union. Until then I’ll have all of my people keep their roaming fingers to themselves. Does that sound like a suitable arrangement?” 

Chisaki sat back in his chair. While Shigaraki couldn’t truly be trusted, he saw no other choice than to agree to this. “One hour. Don’t be late.” He hung up before the petulant man could say anything else, He let out a long sigh before standing. He had a lot of preparations to do before his visitors arrived. 

An hour later, Chisaki had just picked out one of his finer bottles of wine when a subordinate brought in his guests. Shigaraki was alone with a girl bound in rope standing next to him. She had a cloth gag tied around her mouth to keep her from talking, something Chisaki thought was a little barbaric but it wasn’t that surprising given who her captor was. 

Despite her bindings, he could already tell just how beautiful she was and more than that she smelled absolutely divine. Chisaki felt his mouth water, hunger panging in his stomach. This visceral reaction was incredibly rare for him. The urge to sink his fangs into the tender flesh of her delicate neck roared in his brain, yet he did his best to silence it. Outwardly his masked face remained the same, though his mouth twitched into an unseen smile. 

He held his hand out, but Tomura hesitated before handing over the rope leash. “You break our deal then I’ll snap her pretty little neck. Got it?” He asked, putting a gloved hand on the back of her neck and squeezing lightly for emphasis. Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, already he knew that no one would ever be taking her away from him. Shigaraki just didn’t know who he was dealing with. 

“If she passes the examination, then we will have a deal.” Chisaki reminded him, “if I find that she is unclean, then you can do what you wish with her. I do not care.” Though the words came out bitter and assured, deep down he knew that that was untrue. Something about her was so captivating already. He didn’t want to dwell on the possibility of her not being the one. Kurono had seemed so sure of himself when they spoke last. 

The young yakuza leader led his potential pet into a back room that was made specifically for examining humans. He had it built shortly after he took over in order to sort out his cattle in any way he saw fit. 

After ushering her inside, he cut on the harsh bright lights that nearly blinded her. Shigaraki chose to perch on a stool in the corner while Chisaki untied the ropes that bound the girl’s arms and then the gag. He let the thick braids fall unceremoniously to the floor, noticing how she shook with each brush of his fingertips. Scared already? Well, they always did taste better when they had adrenaline coursing through their veins. 

“Take off your clothes and get on the table.” He ordered, watching her eyes dart to a table adorned with stirrups. It was similar to one you might find at a gynecologist's office. With much hesitation, his new subject began to disrobe. Her clothes puddled around her feet as she grew more and more embarrassed with each less layer covering her sensitive skin. An odd heat was pooling between her legs as she clenched her thighs together.

Chisaki was taken off guard by her arousal. He had been assured that she was a virgin, however if stipping down before two vampires was turning her on then certainly that wasn’t the case. Both he and Shigaraki could smell the slick that was accumulating within her folds. His sharp eyes cut to the snickering vampire in the corner who was nothing but amused by this turn of events. 

After she finished undressing, she climbed up onto the steel table that had minimal cushioning. Chisaki changed his gloves out to a fresh pair, wanting to make sure that any dirt he found wasn’t something that had already been on the ones he had been wearing previously. A fresh slate was needed for this examination. 

“Put your feet in the stirrups.” He said coldly, his doubts beginning to overwhelm him internally, though his face did not show it. Even if it did, the lower half was still obstructed by his black face mask. How could this girl possibly be the one if she enjoyed disrobing in front of two murderous vampires? Was she one of those that got off on fantasizing about creatures of the night? The thought disgusted him. 

Her knees were shaking, causing the metal arms of the stirrups to rattle. Even curiouser she was this nervous while also being excited? What a peculiar creature indeed. 

His eyes swept over her seemingly frail mortal body. There were no bruises, no cuts. There wasn’t even a scar on the flesh he could see. Hair was all neatly landscaped. Her outward appearance was up to par with his wishes, but it was time to check the inside of her to make sure. 

Chisaki gently spread the moistened folds to see if that thin sliver of tissue was still intact. While true, it wasn’t uncommon for girls to rupture their hymen through activities other than sex, he still found it to be a great indicator. If it was torn then he would have to check another way. 

To the vampire’s pleasure, there was the tiny half moon membrane just a centimeter into the vaginal canal. This was all he needed to see in order to believe that she was, in fact, a virgin and that he wouldn’t need to probe any further in order to find any inconsistencies that disputed that fact. 

He delicately checked over the rest of her sex, searching for any indication that she wasn’t as pure as she seemed to be. Again he was thoroughly pleased to find none. He took a step away from her, walking around the table to closer examine her nude form. His sharp eyes moved over every last inch of visible skin, trying to detect any kind of abnormal marking or sign of dirt or grime. 

The stirrups were still rattling with the tremors of her lower limbs, a tinny sound that bounced off the walls of the small room. Her eyes were shut tightly, afraid to look at the man looming over her. What the two villains in the room didn’t know was that she had been saving herself specifically for this sort of situation. Since she came of age she longed to be some vampire’s little fuck toy to use and abuse. Despite her pure body, her mind was anything but. Upon learning of the League of Villain’s intentions with her, she hadn’t been able to stop the grotesquely loud thumping of her heart within her chest. 

She didn’t know exactly who the vampire they referred to as Overhaul was, but she could tell that he was especially gifted and powerful. The way he commanded a room was enough to make her weak in the knees. She kept herself meticulously well kept and it seemed as though all her work had been for something much greater than she could have ever anticipated. 

“Put your legs down and roll over.” He ordered in that monotonous and apathetic voice that only made her shutter even more. She obliged, removing her feet from the pads of the stirrups and rolling onto her stomach after scooting back up onto the steel table a little more so that she could be more comfortable. 

Shigaraki was watching with mild intrigue. He had never seen Chisaki look over a potential meal before. It was quite entertaining how thought out his observations appeared to be. 

He inspected the areas that he could not see before, again finding nothing out of the ordinary. He even inspected her hair, looking for any signs of lice or debris. Nothing. Every item on the list within his mind checked off one by one. She was intact. She was clean. She was pure. And she would be his and his alone. 

Chisaki left her side to order an underling to bring him a fresh clean robe for her to wear. In the corner of the room was a glass shower that he instructed her to go to in order for her to scrub herself down even further. He assured her that when she was finished he would have something for her to put on and to not worry about the rags she had been wearing. 

After she had stepped into the clear shower and began to wash as per his instructions, Chisaki made his way to a nearby sink. He removed the gloves that had been soiled with her arousal and threw them in the bin to his right before scrubbing his hands clean and putting on a new pair. Once he was finished he made his way back to Shigaraki. “We have a deal.” He said plainly, not wanting to show how very important this girl was to him now. If he let on how great of a find this truly was, then there was no telling what his adversary would ask for in return. So far the exchange they had worked out was simple enough. He didn’t need for it to become any more complicated. 

He couldn’t see the twisted grin on Shigaraki’s face due to the false hand mask obscuring it, however he could tell that it was there simply due to the way the seated man’s eyes creased with sick glee. “Let us toast to this new alliance then.” Shigaraki drawled as he stood from the wooden stool he had been sitting on. 

Kurono stepped in to deal with the little lamb that was his boss’s new plaything as the two leaders left for the kitchen where Chisaki had prepped the dry blood wine. A servant poured them both a glass of the viscous burgundy liquid before handing it to them with a slight bow. 

Both men removed the masks they were wearing, through they stood a good six feet apart. Chisaki was not about to breath in whatever sin Shigaraki exhaled. It was the first time Tomura had seen his full face and immediately thought that he looked even younger than he was. He waited for Chisaki to drink the wine first to make sure it hadn’t been tainted. 

Chisaki took the first sip with an apathetic look on his face. Only once he had swallowed did Shigaraki follow suit. Both of them revelled in the bitter and metallic taste. Only once the glasses were half empty was a word spoken. “We will be making our next move soon.” Shigaraki said, “make sure you and your men are ready for my command.” 

“Don’t worry about us not being ready.” He replied simply, “we are always prepared for anything.” 

Shigaraki chose not to comment, knowing that there was an allusion to his own gang’s sometimes lack of preparedness. It could be hard controlling a group of particularly talented vampires. While he too had great power and they did listen to him, some of his subordinates could get out of control at times. 

He threw back the rest of his wine, letting it flood his senses for a moment as it ran down his throat. He replaced the white hand over his face before standing. “And Chisaki, do not forget my warning. If you do not hold up your end of the bargain, then that delicious specimen will be all mine and your dick won’t be the only one that has been buried into that cute little cunt of hers.” 

Chisaki finished his own glass before slipping the black cloth back over his mouth and nose. His eyes were fixated on his new partner, clearly irate to the thought of someone else having his new most beloved pet. He said nothing, letting his gaze say it all as Shigaraki took his leave finally, wanting to get out before his welcome was possibly overstayed. They’d talk more about the future of their alliance later. Now it was time for Chisaki to see just how great of a gift had just been bestowed upon him. 

By now she was finished with her shower and Kurono had showed her to her new living quarters where she had been locked inside. Inside it looked similar to a medium sized hotel room. She had her own private bathroom, a closet full of clothes that certainly weren’t hers before but would be hers from now on. A full bed that was made with soft sheets and a thick duvet. The only thing she would have liked was a window, however there was nothing to suggest that she was even on the ground floor. It was much more plausible that she had been taken underground instead. 

She was wearing nothing but a silk robe and the man who had brought her here had told her not to put anything on that his boss would be there in a moment. She took a seat on the foot of the bed, wondering if this was to be her life from now on. A slave to a vampire. Would it be everything she had ever dreamed of? If it wasn’t...would there be any way to escape? She had a sickening feeling that her fate was sealed either way. She could either please her new master or die at his hands. There were no other alternatives. 

Being a living blood bag was not a conventional kink to say the least. Maybe it would be enough to keep her alive in this turbulent world. 

The door opened and the leader of the Shie Hassaikai walked into the room, closing it behind her. His golden olive-toned eyes were fixated onto her, a thin inhale caused the black cloth mask to momentarily press against his nostrils. Hunger throbbed in his stomach and he felt himself aching to do something that he never dreamt of doing. Saliva pooled into his mouth as his gaze fixated on the untouched skin of her neck. He could see her pulse fluttering in her jugular, strong and healthy. 

He was pleased to find her in the white robe he had chosen for her. An obvious symbol of what she was to him. The sacrificial lamb. Fuck, he’d drain every lost drop of that sweet innocent life force without a second thought. Sure he had come to make her his but his sudden need to feed was definitely making that difficult. Of course he could still do that even if she were dead. Though a compliant corpse wasn’t quite as much fun. 

He shrugged off his green jacket, setting it on the back of a nearby chair. “What is your name?” He asked, though he already had the intent of giving her a new name already. He still wanted to know what it was. 

She told it to him, voice wavering with anticipation. Was tonight the night she’d finally experience sex for the first time? The thought alone had her gushing again and the smell caused Chisaki to quirk an eyebrow with curiosity. He had only asked her her name, why did that make her so aroused? 

He loosened his tie before taking it off completely, “Take off your robe.” He ordered as he stepped closer to the bed. She stood up and untied it from around her waist, letting it fall open before she shrugged it off of her shoulders. The white silk fell to the floor and immediately her hands moved to cross over her exposed chest in order to attempt some form of modesty. Even though he had already stripped her and examined her most intimate parts, it was still awkward to simply be nude in front of her new master. She did have some morals afterall. 

Chisaki grabbed her arms and unfolded them before forcing them behind her back. He wrapped the fabric of his tie around her wrists tightly before weaving a knot into the bindings to keep her from getting out of it. Her shoulders pulled to accommodate the new position, causing her chest to lift and breasts to bounce in protest of his sudden and rough movements. 

He observed the wince of pain that crossed her face and the look caused his cock to twitch inside of his pants, begging to be freed. “If you struggle too much, Angel, it’s only going to hurt you more in the long run.” He said, voice edged with a thinly veiled threat. She immediately stopped pulling at the tie and became still before him, eyes too afraid to look at his face as she felt the skin of her cheeks heat painfully with embarrassment. 

He took off his shirt and unbuckled his belt, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to wrap it around her fragile throat. If he did so then he’d been obscured from possibly savoring it for himself, though the thought of that caused a sudden wave of nausea. His stomach urged him to tear open the flesh of her jugular while his brain protested at the mess it would make. 

Chisaki decided to remove the black mask from his face and placed it on a nearby table where it would not get soiled. He heard her inhale sharply at the sight of his unblocked face. He was much more handsome than she had originally thought, and while all vampires had some denotation of enhanced beauty, his was truly magnificent. 

His mouth opened and she saw the glinting white fangs inside of it. Both the canines and lateral incisors were pointed sharp, though the later was a fraction shorter than the other. Truly he could reduce her into nothing in seconds if he wanted to, all with the quick use of his dangerous mouth. She couldn’t help another wave of slick from coating her sex at the thought of what all he could do with it. 

He didn’t bother to take off his pants just yet as he leaned in to gently sniff the flesh of her throat right above the pulse point. She felt a droplet of something wet hit her collarbone and instantly she knew it was saliva. 

“P-Please,” She stuttered for him, “bite me.” She practically moaned the order and he growled at the distastefulness of it. He didn’t want her so willing. Not for the first time. He wanted this to hurt. She heard the small hiss that came out from between his teeth, felt the small puff of air against her neck. Instantly she knew she had made a mistake as his gloved hand wrapped around her throat and began to squeeze. 

She gasped for air, typing to break free from her ties once more but was unsuccessful once again. Her vision blurred around the edges, dark black spots blobbing before her eyes randomly as she struggled for air. Now this was a sight for sore eyes, Chisaki thought. He could easily see the life in her eyes fighting to stay lit. If he held his grip for a few more minutes then she’d lose consciousness completely. Even longer and she’d die. 

He released his hold on her suddenly and she inhaled sharply and painfully. Her lungs expanded fully as she gulped in the clean crisp air of the room. The vampire watched her closely, looking for any sign of long lasting damage. He didn’t even need to command her to not say another word. She got the point loud and clear by his actions alone. 

It was then that he decided that it was better off if he marked her as his own. While it wasn’t a very common practice (his cattle literally got branded with an iron in the shape of the family’s crest), it was something that vampires did to protect humans that they were particularly fond of. While fondness wasn’t the right choice of words here, he did want it to be known that she was for him and him only. 

The best part is that it would hurt. He wanted it to hurt, through fear he could have complete subordination. He wanted a helpless lamb, not a conniving wolf. The only downside was that it would require him to bite her. Though truthfully he could use his quirk to do it, he knew it wouldn’t have quite the same effect. 

Without warning, Kai suddenly sank his teeth into her shoulder, around her right collarbone. His sharpened fangs easily tore through the soft flesh, sweet rich blood pouring into his mouth as she let out the most deliciously pained cry. She tried to shy away from him, tried to get him off, but his hold was vice. 

Pain ripped through her entire body, not just her shoulder. Some sort of dark magic was pulling at her skin, making it hot with fever. Her forehead broke out into a sweat as large tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her neck. She had never known such pain before and she thought she may pass out at any moment. 

He was pulling the blood from her, making her feel lightheaded and almost weightless. The taste was almost too much for him. The thought of just taking every last drop flooding into his mind at such an alarming rate that he was almost unable to stop himself from pulling away at last. Her eyes connected with his bloody mouth, a thick trail of blood seeping down his chin and dripping down onto her bare chest. 

Unfortunately for her he could not use his healing quirk on this particular wound. He needed it to heal naturally in order for the mark to leave a scar. If he healed it completely then it would be all for naught. 

He quickly disappeared into the private bathroom and scrubbed his face and lips clean, though wasting even a drop of her blood made him rage. The good thing about humans was that they could produce more. It wasn’t a finite source. He had to remind himself of that as he willed the hives that had crept up his neck to disappear. Nausea turned his newly full stomach. A glance in the mirror at his now clean face caused the urge to vomit to recede. He grabbed a hand towel and some medical supplies. He had to take good care of his little lamb if he wanted her to last. 

Once back in the bedroom he began to clean the wound. Thankfully the blood hadn’t made it to the bedspread. He cleaned the wound with a surprising amount of gentleness, being sure not to hurt her as he bandaged it up with gauze and medical tape. Once the square of white material was firmly in place he took off his clothes and retreated back into the bathroom to wash his hands. 

After drying them he returned into the bedroom to see her looking at him, her legs quaking beneath her shuddering frame. “Lay down on your stomach,” He said monotonously, watching as she struggled to get onto the bed without the use of her arms and lay down for him. Chisaki put on a new pair of gloves and grabbed a condom from the box that had been placed in the room. They had been specially made to hold up during the certain amount of zeal he tended to have in the bedroom, though he rarely found a specimen good enough for his tastes. Typically after he soiled them he discarded them, but this time would be different. Now she was marked, the skin of her shoulder still burning with pain. 

Chisaki dropped his pants and underwear, watching her thighs continue to shake. “Up on your knees.” He instructed and she did just that, keeping her chest on the mattress with her arms tied behind her back. The view was absolutely magnificent. Her wet folds now on display for him, the tiny whines that came from her throat. How could a virgin be so fucking needy? He didn’t know and didn’t care, somehow her being more willing than he expected was a good thing. Going in dry could be painful and he detested the stickiness of lube. 

He rolled the condom onto his hard cock, a thrill tingling up his spine at the thought of what he was about to do. He’d fix her up nice and good after working her over. Even if she was aroused, this was still going to hurt. 

He positioned his tip at her entrance, looking over her shuddering form. Honestly he had never seen such a beautiful site before. All the virgins he’d taken before were nothing like this one. He kept one gloved hand on her lower back while his other guided his twitching member into her. 

He wasn’t slow or gentle. In fact, he pushed his way in with brute force, knowing that it would be ripping that delicate hymen of hers. He could smell the blood spilling onto the bed and once more his mouth filled with saliva. His little lamb cried out in pain because there was no pleasure to be had here yet. It was much too soon for that. 

Chisaki held back a curse at how tight she was, her pussy clamping down on his cock in a vice grip that had him wanting to blow his load already. He did allow her a moment to adjust to the new feeling of him stretching her out, though it wasn’t long before he dragged himself out and slammed back into her once more. 

Another cry of pain, she wanted to beg him to stop and give her time. Let her get acclimated more before he moved, but she feared what kind of punishment she might receive for such an outburst. Her cries though were music to his ears and he wouldn’t let up, not when he could hear that precious sound over and over again. 

The pain didn’t last forever. Not like she had feared it might. Which each powerful thrust it dulled more and more, until her screams of agony became moans of pleasure. Chisaki wasn’t sure which he liked more, they were both so sweet in their own way. Feeling her body relax, her walls loosening ever so slightly so that it was easier for him to move, did make the act much more enjoyable. He could increase his pace, pounding into her with relentless force that had her toes curling with delight. 

She felt an odd pressurized sensation welling in the pit of her abdomen. It was so foreign and tense that she was at first worried something may be wrong with her. Chisaki grabbed a fistfull of her hair and yanked it backwards, pain searing into her scalp as her walls tightened around him enough to make him let out a groan. 

He pulled her upwards more by her locks, making it so he was entering her at a new angle, one that had her feeling dizzy with ecstasy. The coil tightened even more and she felt like she was going to shatter into pieces if he didn’t stop. One more good thrust and it snapped completely, her first orgasm blossoming and overtaking her in waves. Her already dripping cunt flooded around him and the feeling of her juices on his upper thighs had him breaking out all over again.

Chisaki let out a grunt at the feeling of her coming undone around him. Her walls pulsating and fluttering had him unable to hold back as he hit his peak. His thrusts became incredibly shallow and without rhythm as he pumped white cum into the latex condom. 

He released his hold on her hair, making her fall forward onto her face. She was in too much of a state of bliss to move as she caught her breath. He slowly pulled out of her, allowing her hips to fall onto the bed next. He observed the mix of blood and cum that dripped down her legs and onto the bedspread. Again the sight and smell of the ruby liquid was too much for him to hold back from. Besides, his little angel did so good for him. She deserved a little treat too for taking his dick so well for the first time. 

He untied the tie in order to give her shoulders a break, though they hung limply as she was still dazed from the ordeal. He gently guided her to roll over onto her back, letting her get into a comfortable position as he moved his face between her legs. His nose was practically inside her as he inhaled her natural perfume, his tongue licking at the droplets of blood on her lips. His little lamb shuddered, too tired to make any sort of noise. She was still so incredibly sensitive that his probing tongue had tears leaking from her eyes. 

Chisaki devoured every drop of spilled blood that hadn’t made it to the duvet. Tiny nips of his teeth over her femoral artery had a new wave of arousal building within her. She had no idea that she could feel so much at once. It was maddening already and only became worse when his mouth latched onto her engorged clit suddenly and sucked powerfully. 

She let out a weak cry of protest, the overstimulation simply too much. How could someone want something and not want it so much at the same time? There was an ache between her legs from how much he had stretched out her innocent little hole and now his tongue swirling around her clit had her seeing stars. 

Unable to stop herself, she rutted her hips against him, whimpering through her tears as his eyes snapped up to watch her squirm. Two gloved fingers snaked their way into her pussy, curling with her natural curve before coming back out. He repeated the process, forming a speedy rhythm of fingers and tongue until she was screaming for more. More, more, please, and she was cumming again in no time at all. 

Chisaki removed himself from her, disappearing into the bathroom to clean up his face and take off his soiled gloves and condom. He washed his hands and penis though the hives were still taking over the edges of his face. He’d have to take a full on shower after he was done cleaning her up. 

He came back out with a warm wet towel and a dry one. First he placed a hand on her belly, using his quirk to heal her lower half so that she would no longer be in any pain. He also took the time to repair her hymen so he could deflower her all over again sometime soon. 

Her heavy breathing slowed as the pain dissipated. Though exhaustion was setting in, his delicate healing touch had her feeling warm. He wiped her clean, drying her off before discarding the dirty towels. “Can you sit up, Angel?” He asked in a soft voice that she had no idea he was even capable of. “I need to replace the duvet.” 

She nodded, scrambling to the head of the bed so that he could pull the bloody blanket out from under her. “Get under the sheets.” He said, though it was an order it didn’t sound as cold as his previous orders had. She managed to get under the silken sheets, eyes growing heavy as she rested her head on the pillow. She had been too scared to sleep since she’d been captured by the other gang of vampires. Now the events of the day were making it very difficult to keep her eyes open. 

Chisaki grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and put it over her so that she would not be cold. He observed her tired, frail face. “Sleep, little lamb. I’ll have food waiting for you when you wake.” 

She didn’t even have the energy to nod, simply falling into a much needed state of slumber before he could say anything else. As he observed her, Chisaki couldn’t help but think to himself that Kurono had been right. She was definitely the one.

Mobile Masterlist || Request Rules || Collab Masterlist

Tag List: @dabi-hates-fish​, @hawksward​

[jolynej]

Ok but bear!hybrid reader ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ I love the dynamic of something/someone so cute and innocent looking going from zero to one hundred real quick! And I’m a sucker for anything soft and sweet hehe!!

Reader is gender-neutral; they/them pronouns used

Warnings: none! maybe implied nsfw if you squint

They have the cutest, roundest, fuzzy-ears that are set perfectly on their head, and they are so expressive despite their half-moon shape — their s/o is able to pick up on every little twitch and decipher the meaning of each subtle tilt or curve downwards, indicating interest or affection

And they love affection! They love to curl up in the lap of their beloved and take small naps, nuzzling into each scritch-scratch behind their ears and every pet that they receive. Even in their unconscious state they react this way

But when they’re rudely awoken from their slumber, it’s all low growls and long, intimidating claws, ready to strike out at the closest person. It takes them a good minute or two to snap out of this stupor, and they’re s/o quickly catches on to this behavior and will either have to sit still until they wake up, or if they’re lucky, they may able to successfully ease them awake with a gentle caress to their cheek

The bear-hybrid is also fiercely loyal and protective — a real ride or die! They will leap into danger head-first, and if a threat arises, they have very little regard for their personal safety. It can a terrifying experience to see the shift from something so soft and cuddly to pure rage in the form of gnashing teeth and pointed claws

But! They are also devoted lovers and companions. Since the instinct to protect is so innate, they posses a talent of being able to comfort and calm others, especially their s/o. No matter their size, they love to hold their beloved in their arms, close to their chest and snuggle them tightly

With the rare exception of getting a little hangry and those dreaded times when their s/o accidentally wakes them up, they are so soft for their partner, and they would never dare entertain the thought of harming a single hair on their head

They! Have! The! Biggest! Sweet! Tooth! Honey and berries are their favorites, and it’s good information to know that they can be bribed with those, and other, types of goodies if they’re acting particularly grouchy or just like a furry ruffian

Who would adore a bear!hybrid the most?

Mista comes to mind first. He’s a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life, as well as his afternoon naps and some good food. His laidback attitude would work wonders on them, quelling their occasional temper with a calm, even tone of voice and a warm hug. He’d be happy to share their love of sweets with them, and he would absolutely have zero qualms about dozing off with them! Mista also would appreciate the abundance of soft hair on their body, adoring the sensation of the wisps beneath his fingers, if they were to have more than just what’s on their head and round tail. He’s a hairy man himself — all dark and thick and curly — and he finds it cute when they calm him their teddy bear.

Okuyasu is very into the notion of loving someone with his entire heart and having that love be reciprocated, and then some. He likes that you’re protective, of not just him, but of his friends and his dad, as well. It’s something that he has spent many a night pondering and ruminating over. It’s rare enough to find someone so amazing and loving, but what if they react in disgust and anger when they meet his father? He admits that he’s not that much of a looker — his words, not at all yours — that it brought him so much joy to see you extend that same position of care towards those closest to him.

Melone is intrigued when he meets you, and that scientific curiosity very quickly turns into attraction. He is head over heels in love with your soft, yet slightly grumbly attitude. You’re so adorable when you’re burying your fuzzy head into the crook of his neck and just seeking out affection from him in general. He likes the idea of feeding you treats and praising you! It’a also a little bit funny to see you and Ghiaccio engaged in a yelling match because he woke you up from your nap or when you go marching up to Risotto, demanding that he give Melone a day off! So! Cute!

[blueprint-han]

sunset and vine ↠ hhj.

           ↳ just a random day with your husband and your son. Caution because you may melt from the fluff. ;-;

genre: marriage au ; fluff

⇥ warnings: none, if you don’t count the tooth rotting fluff I wrote, also not proofread so please excuse any errors.

wc: 1.5 K 🤡 (This.... this was supposed to be a blurb...)

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not aim to represent the activities of the real Hwang Hyunjin, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. Also Sunoo here is only the name chosen for MC’s and Hyunjin’s child, it does not represent the member of Kpop group ENHYPEN. ♡

type: drabble

network tag: @stayverse​​ @districtninewriters​​ @inkidz​​ 

part of: the url drabble game; requested by @sunoo-luvs​​

↯ note: duhuewh i seriously don’t know why I named this sunset and vine especially when it has no similarity. But anyways, I hope you like it Zaara !! This was fun to write, and hehe I hope you like the little thing I did at the end. ;) Also forgive if this is shit. I tried :(( ⇥ dawn.☀️

The loud wail of your son’s cry erupted throughout the room, leaving your body tense as you rushed to the small, but cozy corner of the room. You’d only woken up a mere half an hour ago, having to pry yourself off your husband’s embrace as you started your daily routine.

You’d brushed your teeth, washed your face, started the coffee pot before going to water all the lush green plants that grew in your backyard. The backyard held quite a lot of close memories to you. You vividly remembered fighting with Hyunjin — your husband — to specifically choose a house that had a backyard, being enamoured with growing your own plants.

And of course, Hyunjin couldn’t deny you. Even if he wasn’t a fan of gardening, he couldn’t deny you the moment you gave him the soft expression and the pout™. The one that always rendered him soft from inside, one he could simply not resist.

So, when you heard the cry, it was pretty obvious Sunoo — your son — had either woken up because of a nightmare, or he was hungry. You hoped it was the latter, because your son tended to get particularly clingy when he woke up from a bad dream, plus you wished he wasn’t tormented with any bad memories. It was a trait he’d gotten from his father — Hyunjin tended to cuddle you extremely close when he woke up from a nightmare, which you honestly never minded.

The sound had stopped when you reached for the door handle, but you nevertheless, tiptoed slowly into the room, being oh-so-careful to not make a single sound, so as to wake up your husband or your son for that matter. 

Immediately, you were welcomed with the sound of sweet giggles. Hyunjin had most likely not noticed when you entered, because as you stood at the doorway; he was lying on his back on the mattress, Sunoo in his hands as he lifted him high up into the air as though he were an airplane.

In fact, you were sure Sunoo thought he was an airplane, because the child spread his tiny arms out, a beaming smile on his face — one of pure joy. The scene honestly made your heart swell, you found yourself frozen at the door as you watched the almost raw, honest interaction between the father and his son. His hair and his eyes were jet black, almost tiny crescents because of how wide he was smiling, mirroring his father’s expression.

The sunlight poured from the half open windows (you’d opened it in the morning to allow fresh air to circulate) made it seem as though the both of them glowed. Almost trapped in the moment, so much happiness painted in their expressions.

Overcome with sudden emotion, you smiled, walking over to the mattress before plopping down at the edge. 

“Sunoo, say good morning to mama~” Hyunjin said, noticing your entrance.

“Good morning” The little child said, or so you thought. You stretched your hand out, almost melting when his tiny hand wrapped around your finger, a coo leaving your lips as you rubbed his soft cheek with your other hand.

Looking at him with loving eyes, you asked “I heard a cry.”

“Yeah, I think he’s hungry.” Hyunjin yawned lowly, lifting Sunoo into your arms as he stretched his limbs out. His expression was dazed, as one’s usually would when they just woke up. “Good morning love,” He kissed your forehead after straightening up, and you smiled and mouthed the same in reply.

“Fine, I’ll go get him some breakfast, would you keep him distracted till then?” You murmured, though you knew Hyunjin wasn’t one to say no, especially to spend more time with his son. “Of course, love.” Hyunjin sighed, reaching out to tuck a soft strand of hair behind your ear. “You look gorgeous today.”

“Oh shut up, I haven’t even washed my face yet.” Typical Hyunjin, always the one to fluster you with so many compliments, even after so many years. And even after years of marriage, you still felt yourself get bashful over his tiny words of appreciation.

“And?” You giggled when Sunoo lied his head against your shoulder, yawning slightly as he murmured “Mama, mama” in his sleep. Hyunjin’s eyes drifted to his son’s suddenly sleepy form thrown over your shoulder, automatically reaching out to stroke his hair gently as he smiled. 

His eyes glistened in the sunlight, filled with nothing but pure love and pinch of contentment at the scene in front of him. You — both of you — were his true home. This was the place, the sight that made him feel most joyous, the place where he could truly let go and be himself. The both of you were his guiding compass, and Hyunjin was ever-the-grateful. He would always be so.

“You’re too much.” You rolled your eyes playfully; handing Sunoo to his dad before rushing to the kitchen to prepare his meal. Knowing your son (a little too well), it would take about two minutes before he remembered that he was hungry again. 

While you quickly mashed up the strawberries and filled water into his cup, your husband had taken Sunoo out into the garden, and you figured he was most likely distracting him with the sight of the freshly bloomed roses. It was a good thing, because Sunoo also loved flowers — again, a trait he picked up from his father. 

While he looked a lot like you, he’d adopted most of Hyunjin’s habits — you didn’t really know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But it was adorable, especially when he’d give you a flower that seemed massive in his tiny hand, a small smile on his face paired with an innocent expression — or when he’d pat your head to wake you up on the occasional day he woke up earlier than you.

When you went out into the garden, Hyunjin and Sunoo were seated on the porch, and you almost laughed at how seriously they were examining a rose bud — almost like it held a treasure deeper within it. When you sat down next to him in silence, setting the tray of food at the side, Hyunjin glanced at you the whole time, eyeing you with a smirk pulled on his lips. He looked like he was admiring you, and honestly? You could get lost in his eyes, they sparkled as bright as the stars in a night sky, in a galaxy.

“What?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hyunjin simply poked at Sunoo’s arm, and immediately, your sun turned to his side, extending his tiny (yes, you were still not over the fact that Sunoo was adorably small, even if he was a child) hand with the rose bud clutched tightly, mouthing the words, “For you, mama~” but because of the fact that he didn’t know how to pronounce well yet, it came out as “Fow wou, mama” which in all honesty, just made you explode with emotion.

I swear to god, you thought. You and your father are going to be the death of me.

“Awe,” You cooed, gently taking the rosebud from his hand as you took a moment to examine it’s petals. Hyunjin always taught him little phrases of speech, though a little part of you melted with fuzziness every time Sunoo tired them out on you. “Thank you, little one.” You rubbed his cheek with the back of your index finger again, an action that led Sunoo to burst into a fit of giggles. He always loved it when you did that. 

“I love you.”

You didn’t address the statement to particularly any of them, because it was meant for both. At this point, you were the happiest. Being with your small family in your cozy abode, sharing moments like these that always filled you with overwhelming warmth — the tiniest of things always gave you happiness, ever since you stumbled upon the man who ended up being your husband.

At this point, you knew, all fell at place. You could never feel grateful enough to have a literal angel for a husband, and then Sunoo came into your life. You’d always remember those small moments that brought a smile to your face, be it because of your husband or your son, or when they collectively plotted something to lighten your mood when you were feeling down, or when they were simply there, happy and smiling, almost like an embrace of joy.

When you snapped out of your daze, Hyunjin had gently taken your hand in his own, looking at you with an intrigued look, as though questioning what you might be thinking of. You shook your head, running your thumb against the skin of his knuckles.

“I love you too,” Hyunjin said, looking down to Sunoo, who was basically gawking at the both of you wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He laughed, the look almost intoxicating. Taking your son’s hand, Hyunjin placed it on your palm, a small squawk of delight leaving the child’s lips.

“And Sunoo loves you too.”

↯ note: 🕯️ ignore me this is just a small prayer that tumblr doesn’t make me battle the tags yet again 🕯️ may the tumblr gods be in my favor at least this once ;-; 🕯️ ⇥ dawn.☀️

[yellowsuitcase]

The Unwanted Pet // Draco Malfoy

A/N: Hello! This was a request from one of my friends, I thought it was such a cute idea and I knew it wouldn’t take more than a couple hours so I wrote it! I find it adorable and I hope you do too!

Summary: Y/N wants a crup (a jack russell like creature) but Draco most certainly does not. What happens when Y/N gets one anyway?

Warning(s): None

Word Count: 2.7k

“But Draco, it’d be so cute!” Y/N pleaded with her husband. She was leaning on his back while he tied a letter to his owl to send to his coworker at St. Mungos.

A soft wind blew through their open window, bringing the sweet smell of daisies with it. One of Y/N’s favorite things about living in the countryside was the variety of flowers surrounding their home, which was by no means a modest one. Draco would’ve felt too out of place if they had purchased a small abode, so Y/N caved and allowed him to buy a big Irish style house surrounded by thick greenery and rolling oak tree forests. However, Y/N had grown to love the rather big dwelling. But she’d felt a bit lonely whenever Draco would go to work in the early morning, leaving her alone until he returned at nearly midnight.

She had her own job working on the Hogwarts Express, but that only required her to leave the house a few days out of the year. Even though there wasn’t a need for her to work since Draco had inherited all the Malfoy fortune when his father passed a year ago, Y/N found comfort in driving the train full of young and eager students to and from Hogwarts. It reminded her of her days at the school; it was where she had met Draco, the man she’s been married to for seven years.

“Love, they’re high maintenance and a big responsibility. I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Draco replied as he sent off his owl, Biko, and turned around to embrace his pouting wife. He kissed her on the head and gently swayed her back and forth before removing himself from her embrace. He then sauntered to the kitchen to nibble on some jelly slugs; he had quite a sweet tooth.

“But Draco, they’re so cute,” Y/N whined. Draco shrugged. “So what? If you want a pet so badly, go find a toad in one of the ponds...On second thought, don’t. Slimy little creatures they are.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she pushed back a long green curtain to allow more sunlight to stream into the cozy living room. “I don’t want a toad, I want a crup, and I don’t see why we can’t have one.”

Draco shook his head and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “I’ve already told you, they’re messy, you’d have to get a license from the ministry, and they’re high maintenance.” He began gathering his coat and satchel. He had to be at St. Mungos in nearly half an hour. Y/N sighed as she watched him slip on his shoes. She sunk further into their brown leather couch, which once belonged to Y/N’s mother. Draco gave her a pitiful glance. “I’m sorry, my beautiful wife, but I do not wish to have a mangy mutt running around our home. Perhaps something a bit more manageable? How about an owl? I’m sure Biko would love a friend,” Draco said while gesturing to the window his owl had flown out of just minutes ago. Y/N sighed and nodded, “Yeah, perhaps I’ll take a trip to Diagon Alley and see what kinds of owls they’ve got. Would you fancy a barn owl? They’ve got quite a striking face.”

Draco walked over to her and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. “Any owl you want, I’m fine with. I’ll see you tonight; maybe we can have dinner outside, it’ll be perfect picnic weather.”

Y/N smiled softly and watched him stumble into their brick fireplace and throw floo powder down, disappearing in the green flames it created. Once Y/N was sure he had gone, she sprang to her feet and ran for the closet where her shoes were located. She grabbed the first pair she saw and promptly shoved them onto her feet. Little did Draco know, Y/N had already obtained a license from the ministry and was fully certified to own a crup.

She stepped into the fireplace and dropped her floo powder while saying, “The Ministry of Magic Headquarters!” and in a flash, she appeared in the massive dome-shaped lobby of The Ministry building. The hustle and bustle of employees finding their way to elevators and offices intimidated her initially. Nevertheless, after a few moments, she gathered her composure and began walking towards the Department of Magical Creatures. She’d already sent an owl to the Beast Division and made arrangements to pick up her new pet, so all she had to do was get there. And she did; after many twists and turns and pauses to stare at the fancy plaques on the walls, Y/N found herself outside the door. She wasn’t sure whether or not she was supposed to knock, so she put her tentative hand on the knob and turned it slowly.

It opened to reveal a nice looking woman sitting at the chestnut-colored desk. A fairy was fluttering around her head and putting flowers into her hair. She looked up upon hearing Y/N enter. “Hello! Would you happen to be the person who requested a crup?” she asked. Y/N shifted from her left foot to her right foot, trying to expel the excitement jitters from her body. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Wonderful! Y/N Malfoy, yes?” the woman asked. Y/N nodded, and the woman wrote something down on a piece of parchment. “They brought him in an hour ago, so he should be fed and ready to go! And his tail has already been removed as he is seven weeks old. I’ll check in the back and see if he’s all set. You just wait here, alright?” the lady asked.

Y/N grinned and nodded eagerly. She was a bit sad that her crup’s tail had already been removed, it had to be so that muggles wouldn’t notice it was a magical creature, but it still saddened her. Soon enough, however, she heard scampering behind the door. Her heart leaped in her chest, and she fiddled with her fingers anticipatedly. She held her breath as the golden door swung open. Behind it was the woman and a little crup in her arms as well as a carrier by her feet. Y/N’s hands flew to her mouth as she gasped. “He’s so cute,” she whispered. The crup seemed to notice her and suddenly jumped from the lady’s arms and onto the floor where he raced towards Y/N. She looked down at the dog-looking creature. He was staring straight up at her, and when they made eye contact, he barked.

The lady laughed. “Look at that. He already likes you!” Y/N smiled and hesitantly knelt down to greet the fluffy beast in front of her. “Hello there, would you like to come home with me?” she asked. The crup barked happily, his little butt wiggling as he did so. Y/N giggled and opened her arms for the crup. He ran into them and nestled himself against her chest. Y/N stood back up and gently stroked her new pet. “Do you have a name for him yet?” the woman asked. Y/N nodded her head and glanced up to look at the lady. “I’ve decided on calling him Styx,” she said.

“How cute! Well, I don’t want to waste any of your precious time with Styx, so let’s have you pay so you can be on your way.” Y/N reached into her pocket, pulled out two hundred galleons, and placed them on the woman’s desk. After doing so, she put Styx in his new carrier and zipped him up so he’d be safe and secure. Waving goodbye to the nice lady, she reopened the door and took a deep breath. The easy part was over, now she had to face Draco.

---------

Y/N and Styx had spent the entire day playing with all the new toys she’d bought for him at Diagon Alley. He particularly liked the bright purple rubber ball, as well as his squeaky spider plush. It was nearly ten pm now, and Y/N and her pet were sitting on the couch. Styx was chewing on his bone as Y/N read the Daily Prophet. She was scanning an article about Hogwarts’ new Herbology professor, Neville Longbottom, when green flames erupted from the fireplace. Styx immediately jumped to his paws and began growling at the fire. And suddenly, there was Draco. He was smiling until he heard the low rumble coming from the crup. He glanced down at it and then up at Y/N.

“Tell me that this mutt doesn’t belong to you,” he said sternly. Y/N smiled; it looked more like a grimace. Draco ran his hand down his face in disappointment. “I thought we discussed this. I don’t want a Crup,” he whined, the exhaustion from his workday coming to the forefront. Y/N stood up and walked towards her distraught husband.

“I know you said you didn’t want one, but I’m just so lonely when you’re not here all day. I’ve got no one to talk to and nobody to snuggle with. I just thought having this little guy would give me something to do as well as provide company,” she said quietly, now feeling a bit foolish.

Draco examined her expression intently. She looked remorseful and ashamed; she couldn’t meet his eyes. He sighed and shifted his gaze to the little creature by his feet. Not even Draco could deny the mutt’s inherent cuteness. He looked back up at his wife. “Fine,” he caved, “We can keep him. But I swear if he causes any trouble, he’s going back. I will not tolerate any misbehaving.” Y/N gasped and wrapped her arms around Draco’s neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You won’t regret it, he’ll be the sweetest boy ever. I bet you’ll even grow to like him,” she argued, arms still around him. Draco huffed. “Yeah, right, I don’t think so,” he retorted. He was convinced he’d never learn to genuinely like the crup. Sure he’d probably be able to tolerate him but never enjoy having him around.

“Are you sure? You’re already acting like a dad with all your ‘I will not tolerate misbehaving’ nonsense,” Y/N remarked. Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. If he chews my shoes, he’s out.” Y/N withdrew her arms and crossed them on her puffed up chest. “You’re on, Malfoy.”

--------

Over the next few months, Styx had become a constant within the Malfoy home. It took Draco a little over two weeks to allow him to sleep with him and his wife on their bed, but when he finally caved, he instantly regretted it. More often than not, Y/N slept with her arms around the Cruppy instead of around Draco. The blonde man would always get angry and shoot death glares at the creature while his lover slept. How dare the mutt take his place in her arms?

However, what Draco was unaware of was the fact that sometimes during the night, Styx would wiggle out of Y/N’s arms and settle himself in the crook of Draco’s neck where he’d give him a few soft licks before falling back asleep. And since Y/N would often rouse in the middle of the night, needing to use the restroom, she’d be greeted with the endearing sight of her husband cuddling with Styx. She’d never tell him, but she had quite a few photographs of the scene.

Styx was generally a well-behaved pet. He didn’t chew Draco’s shoes like the man had feared, but he did, however, eat their food when they weren’t looking. This infuriated Draco to no end. Y/N, on the other hand, found it rather funny. She knew that underneath all his fury, Draco found it amusing as well. She was sure of this because one afternoon, when Draco had the day off from work, she’d gone to fetch a book to read to her husband and pet. When she returned, she found Draco smiling down at the crup. She stopped in her tracks and hid behind a wall to listen in on the conversation.

“Look at you, you little scoundrel, stealing my roast beef. You think you’re clever, don’t you?” Draco asked the dog-like creature. Styx barked in reply, making him chuckle. “No, no. I’m afraid you’re nothing compared to me, Styx. You see, I was in Slytherin.” Styx barked again. “Mhm, I was, and you were not so truly who’s the more cunning of the two of us? I think it’s quite obvious.” Styx barked again and pawed Draco’s calf. “Exactly right, my boy, it’s me. Although you’re definitely the cuter one, I’ll give you that.” Y/N watched this exchange from her hiding place. She knew Draco was rather fond of talking to himself, but it seemed as though he enjoyed talking to Styx as well.

Now, Y/N was writing a letter to her sister in the study when she heard a knock at the door. She put down her quill and turned in her chair. “Come in,” she spoke softly. The door opened, and there stood Draco. “You got off of work this early?” she asked. Draco grinned sheepishly. “I may have asked to leave early,” he said while leaning on the doorframe. Y/N was immediately suspicious of her husband. She kicked her leg up and over her thigh and crossed her arms. “May I ask why?” she inquired. Draco shrugged and reached into his back pocket.

“Oh well, it’s only because there’s a quidditch match tonight, and I got us two front row tickets,” he said as he pulled out the two slips of silver-lined paper. Y/N gasped and clapped her hands excitedly. “Draco! That’s brilliant. It’s been so long since we’ve gone to see a game. What teams are playing?” she asked as she rose to her feet. “I have to go find an outfit that matches the colors!” she shouted happily.

Draco laughed at his wife’s eagerness. “Wimbourne Wasps and Chudley Cannons are the teams. And you can go plan your outfit in a moment; I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to take Styx for a walk before I take you Hogsmeade for lunch.”

His words stopped her in her tracks. She looked up at Draco skeptically. “You’re taking Styx for a walk?” He nodded. “Willingly?” she asked. Draco nodded again. Y/N’s mouth fell open in shock. Her husband’s face turned red. “You’ve taken a liking to him, haven’t you?” Y/N asked incredulously. Draco rubbed his hand on the back of his neck and looked at the window. He noticed the parchment on the desk. “Who are you writing to?” he questioned, trying to change the subject. Y/N moved into his line of vision, forcing him to look at her. “Nuh-uh Mr. Malfoy. You’re not getting out of this one. Answer my question, and perhaps I’ll answer yours.”

Draco muttered something under his breath. “Didn’t catch that; speak up.” Draco sighed and covered his face. “Yes,” he mumbled. “I like the mutt.” Y/N squealed and threw her arms around Draco’s torso and squeezed him tightly. He was surprised by this and looked down at his wife quizzically.

“I knew you’d come around! I told you getting a crup would be a wonderful idea, and now look at you. You’re taking him for a walk willingly,” she declared. Just then, Styx himself came strutting down the hallway, his butt wiggling. He sat by Draco’s foot and barked up at him, almost as if he was asking what was taking so long. Draco smiled down at him. “Yes, I know it’s just that your mother and I were having a discussion,” he said to the fluffy creature. Styx barked once more. “I know, right? How rude of her to delay your walk,” he replied in an exasperated tone. Y/N couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto her face.

“Oh, so now you’re talking poorly about me to my son?” she asked. Draco looked up and smirked at her. “I am,” he said firmly. “Come along now, Mr. Wiggles, let’s find your leash.” Y/N was in disbelief as she watched her lover walk down the hallway with Styx in tow. She shook her head and chuckled lightly. “Unbelievable, those two,” she mumbled to herself before retreating into the study.

[star-killer-md]

Goldilocks

— for Cowboy 

A/N: This was inspired by an ask about bathing with the AD boys from @cowboy-kylo​ like forever ago. It’s also like got a fair amount of fluff just to prove to you all I am capable of writing non-painful things. I hope you enjoy some lovely soft Clyde dear! 💖

Pairing: Clyde x Reader

Warnings: none really, fluff and smut, a bathtub is involved, handjobs, this is in a word tooth rotting so beware

Word Count: 2k

You never thought too much about how small your apartment was. For so long, it had just been you on your own, so the minuscule space between the island and the stove, the low ceilings and narrow hallways hadn’t been a bother. 

But Clyde made it feel like a tin can left in the freezer overnight and ready to burst, dying to expand. 

To be fair, Clyde Logan made everything seem small with his hand like a boxing glove—minus all the hard fists and swung punches—and his shoulders hunching in every doorway as if the world was never able to fully accommodate him. You thought maybe that was why he smiled the way he did, sort of apologetic even at the happiest of moments, like he was sorry for never quite fitting anywhere.   

Clyde made you feel small too though you were always afraid to tell him that. Knew he’d take it the wrong way and smile that sad, sorry smile and try to fade off into the corners of your bedroom, try not to ‘crowd ya’ as he’d say. So you never said it, but you thought about it often. 

Clyde Logan made you feel small in the most beautiful of ways. 

Not like most people did when they spoke over you or made stupid backhanded comments that you were meant to laugh at so as not to seem rude or when they stared right through you that way people do when they don’t give two shits what you’re saying and don’t care enough to pretend. 

No, Clyde Logan made you small in a way you’ve never been. 

He made you feel comfortable everywhere.

Sometimes, when you’d go to visit him at the bar, he’d place his hand on the small of your back, let it run feather light around your hip and rest there in the curve of the bone. And suddenly, you didn’t feel so out of place, like you were taking up too much space that wasn't meant for you. Once, you were helping him clean up after a long shift and knocked a whole tray of glasses straight off the bar top, sent the shattered bits skittering all across the floor, but there was no burn of embarrassment. Just, “it’s no problem, darlin’,” and a soft press of his lips to your head. 

Sometimes it was overwhelming, the sense Clyde gave you, finally in your proper place. 

And in his arms, when he wasn’t too nervous to hold you in ‘em—too afraid he might crush ya—you felt small and perfect and not at risk of breaking anything precious. 

It pervaded every inch of you, and occasionally you felt just how small the apartment really is. Now that you were used to the puzzle piece fit of Clyde Logan, the cold tile floors and microcosmic rooms felt cramped in a way they never did before. 

You told him a while back you’d start looking for a new place, somewhere you both can fit. 

But for now, you were still in the little shoebox you’ve called home for so long and you could hear the key turning in the front door’s lock, big, heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Clyde stopped by most nights after work these days, slept in your bed most nights too. Pounded you into the mattress and made you cry for him or let you ride his cock, thighs burning to take him deeper and watch how his pretty eyes roll back when he cums. 

And as delicious as it sounded, as much as it sent sparks off between your thighs, you had something softer planned for him. Something lovely for this man who came the closest to the human personification of southern sweet tea you’d ever known. Refreshing like the little sprigs of cut mint he kept in mason jars to chew on sometimes, cool like the feel of his prosthetic on your bare skin, soothing like his fingers scratching gently at your scalp and the way the hair on his chin grates your shoulder when he rubs against you in his sleep. 

“Darlin’?” his voice echoed down the hall. 

“In here!”

You had the bathtub all filled up with near scalding water and fragrant bubbles floating like clouds along the top. The room was hazy with steam that settled in little droplets on your skin. The top of your breasts peeked out from the water and Clyde’s eyes fell immediately to the shape of you under the surface. 

He had just his head poking through the crack in the door and you couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your cheeks whenever he got shy like this. Like he hadn’t seen you bare a thousand times before. 

“Oh, uh, m’sorry didn’t mean ta—”

You cut off his stammering, “Feel like joining me?”

“I don’t know if I’ll fit, sweetheart,” he said, already tugging off his t-shirt and sitting on the edge of the tub. 

He always called you so many little pet names. Normally you’d hate that, but it melts you a bit when they come from his mouth. 

“You’ll fit,” you said, drifting over to help him take off his prosthetic and lay it gently on the vanity. “You always fit.” 

And he did, because it’s you and him so there’s never a place the two of you don’t. 

His jeans and socks and underwear—that you bought him because you swore they made his ass look so good in those bootcut jeans he wore—lay in a little pile by your sink and Clyde’s chest is finally warm and solid against your back. 

Just where he’s meant to be. 

His legs were bent up around you, knees poking out of the water, and you brought one of his massive calves to rest between yours, kneading gently at the taut muscles. 

“You don’t have ta do that, darlin’,” Clyde said, and groaned when you unwound a particularly tight knot. 

“Shh,” you hushed, “tell me about work.”

He hummed as you reached for the soap, lathering your hands up and working it all down his legs. 

“It weren’t too excitin’, I did have ta kick out one fella—real piece a work too.”

Clyde went on and you listened, almost drowning in the way the words left his mouth and shifting around to sit chest to chest in his lap so you could work on his shoulders. His cock was half hard and twitched against you, but he lay still, hand loosely on your hip and head tilted back while he talked.

You loved the feeling of the warm, smooth planes of his skin under your hands and raked your nails across his chest, pausing to thumb at his nipples and chuckling at the catch in his voice. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say your tryin’ ta distract me darlin’,” Clyde mumbled, sitting up so you were pressed tight against him and laying his head in the crook of your neck.

“I would never, just trying to help you unwind.”

You pulled him up by the hair to finally fit your lips to his, loving the glide of him, the scratch of his beard. Clyde’s arms sloshed the water over the sides as they wound up and around your middle. You hummed when he didn’t hesitate to touch you with both. Sometimes he got a little wary about touchin you without his prosthetic, but it seemed you’d done your job well. He felt loose, all the tension released as he fell perfectly into you. 

Puzzle pieces, just the right size. 

Edges and curves finding their way into place like how the sea meets the shore: inevitably. 

You felt the sharp expanse of his ribs when your hand brushed his achingly hard length under the water. He was nothing if not proportional, your Clyde, wide and long in every aspect of himself, so that your hand barely wrapped all the way around him. 

He moaned in earnest now, resting his forehead to yours, “Darlin’, you don’t gotta do that.” 

You hushed him, moving your wrist in long, languid strokes. Listened to the breathy little noises he made and needed every one of them. 

“There’s nothing in the world I want to do more,” you said, twisting your hand just how you knew he liked it and earning yourself another gasp. “Let me make you feel good, Clyde.” 

He nodded breathlessly, tilting his head back so you could suck and nip little marks all over his collar. 

The first time the two of you had ever got a little hot and heavy, you’d accidentally left behind more than a little evidence—which you're sure Clyde got more than a tad of flack for from the guys at the bar—but you knew he loved it. Loved looking at them, loved remembering how they got there and loved the reminder of where and to whom he belonged. 

“Ya always make me feel good—” he trailed off when you bit just over his pulse, licking a hot stripe up his neck. 

Clyde bucked his hips up as the pace of your hand on his cock increased, and he mumbled a nearly incoherent apology when more water spilled out onto the bathroom floor. 

But the mess didn’t matter when his head fell back, resting in your hands and giving you a lovely view of his freckled chest, pink with the steam and all the pleasure you were pulling from him. You wanted to kiss every mole, connect them all like constellations in the clear West Virginia night sky. 

“Oh honey, you’re so pretty,” you hummed, taking in the scene before you. 

Clyde choked back a sob, pulling his pretty plush lips between crooked teeth. You felt his cock twitch in your hand and knew he was getting close. Couldn’t wait to see his face screw up with the shock of it, couldn’t wait for his arms to lock you in like he was afraid you’d stop and leave him cold. 

“Sweetheart, m’ not gonna last much longer,” he groaned and dropped his hand from your hip between your legs, thumb rubbing perfect circles around your clit. “Let me help ya.” 

You grabbed at his wrist, “Clyde, you don’t have to—”

He knocked your hand away and surged forward, bending down to wrap his gorgeous lips around one of your nipples, laving his tongue over the stiff peak and pulling back with a wet pop. 

“Let me make ya feel good,” he said, throwing the words back at you. 

The smug little grin on his face alone nearly sent you over the edge. 

How could you ever deny him that?

So you let him continue, loving the feel of his rough, calloused fingers touching you in all the right places, with just the right rhythm and stroked his leaking cock to match. His eyes stayed on your face the whole time, never glancing away, never shy or embarrassed. 

You couldn’t have looked away if you’d wanted to. 

This is where you belonged, you thought. This is where you fit. Not too big or too much, but goldilocks perfect under his gaze. 

And then his face was scrunching up—just like you knew it would—and showered him with praise as he painted your stomach with white ropes of hot release, fingers never letting up their frantic circles until you were throwing your head back and gasping with the white sting of your climax. 

After a few moments, you released his softening length and collapsed into his solid chest, reveling in the way he locked you in his embrace. 

Later, you’d make the two of you a warm drink, and let him rest his head on your breasts while you stroked his hair and listened to his breathing even out. Later you’d fuck him properly in your bed where his feet always hung off the edge, ride him so he could sit back and rest his hand on your hip and watch you take all of him, despite the size.

Because Clyde and you just fit together like that, without question, as natural as anything. 

Just right.